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Number Twenty-two 

ZJke (confederate Uet 



Tuscaloosa 1962 Alabama 

Wm. Stanley Hoole, Editor-in-Chief 

Number Twenty-Two 




^Jne L^on federate Uet 




Tuscaloosa 1962 Alabama 






Only four hundred and fifty copies of this book have been 
printed, after which the type was destroyed. 

To my parents, 
William Henry White and Lois Davis White 





tent d 

on ten 

I. Early Organizations, 1865-1889 
II. The United Confederate Veterans 

III. From Appomattox to Empire 

IV. The Veteran in Politics 

V. Fellowship Among Veterans 
VI. Bread and Stone 

Selected Bibliography- 











Printed in the United States of America by Nottingham-SWS, Inc. 
315 Greensboro Avenue, Tuscaloosa, Alabama 


/" to to 



The Confederate soldier and sailor in the War Between 
Hie States, 1861-1865, have been championed in history, 
memorialized in stone and bronze, and immortalized in the 
initids and hearts of millions as the models of valor, mili- 
tary skill, and devotion to duty. But the postwar record 
Of these men as veterans has been all but neglected. Now the last veteran has "crossed over the river," it is 
lilting that that record be examined. 

The first Confederate veterans were men who left the 
irmed forces during the war for causes ranging from 
disability to desertion. However, with the surrender and 
l ollapse of the Confederate Army in early 1865 the mass 
Of veterans appeared on the scene. And they formed "an 
evolution of a revolution," unique and alone as a new entity 
In the United States. 

This study examines the activities of the veterans and 
ultempts to determine the extent to which their actions 
influenced the course of Southern and national life. Pri- 
Riarily, the story is concerned with veterans as part of a 
Conscious group, acting together in organizations founded 
1 1. achieve goals peculiar to their status. The title itself — 
The Confederate Veteran — is intended to suggest the many 
mm one, welded together and possessing unity and cohesion. 

Because of a long-lingering sentiment, the subject in- 
volves delicate problems of historical perspective and 
Objectivity. The veteran and his allies were so intent upon 
pi rsenting their version of the war, its causes and results, 
I hat they tended to overemphasize needlessly and often to 
exaggerate. In this monograph an honest effort has been 
made to distill the truth from the facts and to tell the 

i<>ry, simply and fairly. 

The author wishes to thank Professor Barnes F. Lathrop 
of the University of Texas ; his assistance and guidance are 
largely responsible for all that is worthwhile in the work. 
Others who helped and gave invaluable encouragement are : 
Miss Margaret Pannill, Corsicana, Texas ; John K. Betters- 
worth, academic vice-president, Mississippi State Univer- 
sity; Glover Moore and Harold S. Snellgrove, professors 
of history, Mississippi State University; Joseph 0. Baylen, 
professor of history, University of Mississippi; James H. 
McLendon, dean, Delta State College, Cleveland, Missis- 
sippi ; Yvonne Phillips, head, Department of Social Science, 
and George A. Stokes, professor of geography and geology, 
Northwestern State College, Natchitoches, Louisiana; 
Lester Clark, Jr., Hattiesburg, Mississippi; Lieutenant 
Samuel P. Guyton, Fort Worth, Texas; Lieutenant James 
M. Young, Arlington, Virginia; and A. L. Weinberger, 
Lockhart High School, Lockhart, Texas. 

Northwestern State College 
of Louisiana 

W. W. W. 

Chapter I 

C^arlu V-Jraanizationdj 1 865-1 880 

Besides the traditional problems of adjustment 
from military to civilian life, the former soldiers and 
M.'iilors of the Confederate States were beset by many new 
Ones which stemmed from their peculiar status as de- 
feated revolutionists. In the quarter-century following 
the Civil War, these men sought through veterans organ- 
isations to solve these pressing problems. The character 
nf this movement was influenced by the conditions existing 
■ il the end of the war, by the men's attitude, and by their 
military background. It was also shaped by new develop- 
ments — social, economic and political — in the ensuing years. 

The War for Southern Independence was ended; the 
fight for survival was joined. The once proud legions of 
Lee, Jackson, and Johnston were no more. As one editor 
Hummed it up, "The soldiery of the South have broken 
ranks and grounded arms, and their only camps are in our 
cemeteries and upon our battle-fields which dot our broad 
laud from Pennsylvania to Texas." 1 In 1865, as they re- 
turned home, the veterans found little to soothe the scars 
of battle or to assuage the bitter pangs of defeat. Ac- 
customed as they were to winning wars, the lot of the 
conquered was especially galling. Their mental anguish 
was alleviated somewhat, at least, by the grand welcome 
extended them, for the women and the stay-at-homes 
outdid themselves in complimenting them while vehemently 

1 Wilmington (N. C.) Daily Journal, May 11, 1869. 



damning the enemy. 2 But compliments, praise, and dam- 
nation seemed hollow and inappropriate. 

Closer to reality were the death, devastation, and dete- 
rioration of war. These the veteran could see and feel. 
The hunger and the empty pockets also were real. The 
sight of uprooted social and economic systems, and the air 
of uncertainty surrounding political institutions now at 
the mercy of the conqueror inspired little confidence. Even 
to the unlettered veteran, it must have been evident that 
things would be different — slavery must end, Yankees 
would be in control, and making a living would be hard, 
at least for a while. 3 

Under such chaotic conditions the veterans' thoughts 
and acts profoundly influenced other Southerners who 
looked to them for guidance in peace as they had for 
salvation in war. Veterans naturally differed on many 
issues, but certain attitudes were shared by at least a 
majority of the group: they would faithfully obey their 
paroles and amnesty oaths, and quietly submit to the 
authority of the United States. 4 They were tired of war, 
desiring peace above all else and, for the immediate future, 
getting to work to produce food and clothing for themselves 
and their families was of primary importance. 5 For the 
moment at least politics and public life were unattractive 
to the majority of veterans. 6 Believing that the Confede- 

2 Sidney Andrews, The South Since the War . . . (Boston, 1866), 
396; Walter L. Fleming, Civil War and Reconstruction in Alabama 
(Cleveland, 1911), 714; U. S. 39 Cong., 1 Sess., Senate Ex. Doc US, 
"Report of Benjamin C. Truman" (Apr. 9, 1866), 2; Whitelaw Reid, 
After the War . . . (New York and London, 1866), 138, 155, 295-296. 

a Confederate Veteran, XXXVII, 249-250 (July, 1929), hereinafter 
CV; Fleming, 653; Reid, 295-296. 

* Andrews, 95, 318; Charleston (S. C.) Daily Courier, Sept. 9, 1865; 
Aug. 27, 1866 (hereinafter Courier); Walter L. Fleming (ed.), 
Documentary History of Reconstruction (Cleveland, 1907), I, 228; 
II 332; Reid, 156; "Report of Benjamin C. Truman," 2; John T. 
Trowbridge, A Picture of the Desolated States . - . (Hartford, 
1868} 188 

5 Andrews, 218, 356, 396; Fleming, 308, 712; Little Rock (Ark.) 
Daily Gazette, Aug. 22, 1865; Feb. 15, 1866 (hereinafter Gazette); 
Reid, 28, 206; "Report of Benjamin C. Truman," 3; Trowbridge, 
319, 442-443. 

6 Andrews, 356 ; Reid, 206. 



nite Army had been whipped by superior numbers, but 
that the Southern cause was just, they accepted the issues 
Of the war — those doing the actual fighting most readily 
Accepting. 7 They were concerned for their fallen comrades, 
anxious to honor their names, and to care for their de- 
pendents. 8 They had no great love for the United States 
( the North) , but they were ready to put the past behind, 
and to strive for real union and harmony. They had no 
fcpologies for the war, nor did a guilt complex trouble 
their conscience. The only real regret was that the Con- 
federacy had lost. 9 Naturally, their attitude was subject 
to change as new conditions arose, but these basic opinions 
constituted the key to their future action. The tone and 
pitch of the whole veteran movement had been revealed. 
Within such limitations the situation was not conducive 
to an early, well-organized Confederate veteran movement, 
ruich as that which had launched by the more secure Union 
Veterans. To most veterans, especially the fighting ones, 
the war was all too fresh to be glorious, too recent to be 
romanticized, and the old sources of Southern disunity 
a I, ill made for cleavages among them. It took military rule 
it nd Reconstruction blundering to bring a measure of unity 
to the Confederate veterans, as well as to the South. 
Largely due to the unfavorable environment, the great 
majority of veterans did not become active in any form 
Of organization until the 1890's, although early veteran 
groups were formed as early as 1865 in some areas to 
meet urgent problems: the decent burial of the dead, the 
care of the families of the fallen, and aid to indigent 

Many are the claims of this or that veteran group that 

1 1 was the first formed in the South. Actually, a number 

Of companies and regiments, recruited locally and repre- 

enting a natural community grouping and spirit, never 

Andrews, 318-320; Courier, Sept. 9, 1865; Aug. 27, 1866; Fleming, 
:i09; Fleming (ed.), I, 66; Reid, 206, 322; Trowbridge, 188. 
» Courier, Aug. 27, 1866. 
" CV, VIII, 33 (Jan., 1900); Fleming, 308; Trowbridge, 188. 






disbanded except in a strict military sense, and that only 
because of defeat and the surrender terms. So universal 
were the needs, and so uniform the local response, that the 
reasons for organizing veterans' associations followed 
essentially the same pattern. The motives, which produced 
the first associations in 1865 and 1866 and remained valid 
throughout the 1870's and 1880's, were: 

(1) Charitable — To aid fellow veterans who might be- 
come sick, disabled, or destitute; to give them a decent 
burial with full honors ; and to aid the families of deceased 
comrades; 10 

(2) Memorial — To rebury the dead where necessary; to 
erect monuments to their honor; to care for their cem- 
eteries; and to preserve memories of the deeds achieved 
by Confederate arms; 11 

(3) Fraternal-Social — To preserve and to perpetuate the 
friendships and fraternal ties formed during the war 
through frequent gatherings of veterans; 12 

(4) Historical — To collect records, data, and statistics 
for compiling a complete and true history of military units, 
as well as a general history of the war, its causes, conduct, 
and outcome. 13 

These were the stated reasons for organizing. In any 
other land this might have been stamped as a dangerous 
and treasonable movement. Was this a resuscitation of 
Southern arms for a renewal of the struggle? On the 

10 Courier, July 27, 1866; June 16, 1870; Confederate Annals, I, 33 
(June, 1883) ; CV, II, 9 (Jan., 1894) ; Confederate Veteran Associa- 
tion of Kentucky (Lexington, 1895), 12; Gazette, Dec. 1, 1866. 

11 W. E. Bevens, Reminiscences of a Private . . . (n.p., n.d.), 55; 
Carrollton (Ala.) West Alabamian, June 16, 1875; CV, V, 195 (May, 
1897); J. William Jones (comp.), Army of Northern Virginia 
Memorial Volume (Richmond, 1880), 41; Robert L. Rodgers (comp.), 
History Confederate Veteran's Association of Fulton County, Georgia 
(Atlanta, 1890), 7, 108; Southern Historical Society Papers, XXII, 
284 (1894), hereinafter SHSP. 

12 Confederate Annals, I, 33 (June, 1883) ; CV, V, 147 (April, 1897) ; 
Confederate Veteran Association of Kentucky, 12; Jones, 44, 69; 
Rodgers, 108. 

13 Carrollton West Alabamian, June 16, 1875; Courier, Dec. 13, 
1872; Confederate Annals, I, 33 (June, 1883) ; Jones, 41, 44; Gazette, 
Dec. 1, 1866; Proceedings of the Southern Historical Convention . . . 
187S (Baltimore, 1873), 8-10; Rodgers, 102. 

lirface it might appear so, and uninformed Radical Re- 
publicans took it for just that. Perhaps only in the South 
could allegiance to the newly-preserved Union and devotion 
in ,i revolution that failed be so nicely balanced as to seem 
perfectly logical and even patriotic. These openly stated 
purposes made it clear that the Confederate veterans were 
proud of their cause and their military service. 

Various types of organizations were created to carry out 
the foregoing purposes. Among the first were those of a 
memorial and monumental nature. Most units of this 
type were started by the women of the South who enlisted 
both veteran and general support for their activities. 
There were, however, some veteran-led associations en- 
r.ined in this work almost immediately after the war. 

On April 26, 1866 veterans and neighbors met at Bald- 
wyii, Lee County, Mississippi to decorate the graves of 

I Sonfederate soldiers. A monument was erected to their 
memory, and annually thereafter on May 10 the graves 
Were decorated. Out of these early meetings grew the 
Northeast Mississippi Confederate Veteran Association, 
formed in 1869. 1 * Another organization of similar char- 
ICter was the Confederate Cemetery Association, founded 
November 23, 1870 at Springfield, Missouri. Occupied at 

I I rat with reburial of the dead and the marking of graves, 
this association continued to function as the caretaker of 
i in- Springfield Confederate Cemetery. 15 Other early asso- 
I i.i I ions were specifically commemorative, either for an 
individual or for a particular unit. The Lee Monumental 
Ansociation was organized in Richmond, November 3, 1870 
to honor the memory of General Robert E. Lee. This body 
lnuiiched the drive which ended in the erection of the 
iquestrian statute of Lee. 16 Typical of the unit type of 

1 ' I'roceedings of the Second Annual Grand Camp Confederate 
i i • vans of Mississippi (Jackson, 1892), 4 (hereinafter Mississippi 
Proceedings) . 

' " Official Proceedings of the Tenth Annual Reunion and Conven- 
tion, Missouri Division, United Confederate Veterans (Jefferson 
■ III v, n.d.), 78-79 (hereinafter Missouri Proceedings) . 

l« Jones, 9-10; SHSP, XXII, 284 (1894). 




V 1 

organization was the Charleston Light Dragoons Monu- 
mental Association which was founded by its members to 
perpetuate the heroic deeds and sacrifices of their fallen 
comrades by the erection of a suitable monument in 
Magnolia Cemetery. 17 

Alongside early memorial and monumental groups, mili- 
tary type organizations were also formed. It was only 
natural that organization be along military lines, because 
this was the surest means of bringing together men who 
had actually served together during the war. Too, th( 
military life of the old outfit was fondly cherished by man: 
who yearned for the old days. For these reasons, company, 
regiment, and brigade associations were very popular. 
Many of these flourished as long as survivors were left. 

The company association was especially popular in areas 
where military companies had maintained an existence 
dating back to the Revolution or to the War of 1812. The 
smallness of the unit also contributed to the popularity of 
the company organization, because men serving in a com- 
pany came to know one another rather intimately. South 
Carolina, the home of proud military traditions, led in per- 
fecting the company type of veterans organizations. The 
prohibitions against the reorganization of Confederate 
military units were usually circumvented by using the 
title "Charitable Association." 

In 1865 the Washington Light Infantry Charitable Asso- 
ciation was formed in Charleston by survivors of the 
famous old company. 18 Also in 1865 the South Carolina 
Rangers' Charitable Association was founded for the pur- 
pose of helping the families of those who had perished. 
The year 1866 witnessed the founding of the Beauregard 
Light Infantry Charitable Association and the Palmetto 
Guard Society. The Palmetto Guard — more interested in 
marksmanship than charity — was a rifle club from the 
start. 19 The founding of the Butler Guards at Greenville, 

17 Courier, Jan. 8, 1873. 

«/&«*., Feb. 23, 1869; CV, VIII, 76 (Feb., 1900). 

19 Courier, May 16, 1866; Nov. 10, 1866; Apr. 15, 1867. 



South Carolina in April, 1875 was an example of the 
ipread of company organizations throughout the state. 
This unit boasted 100 members the first year. 20 

One of the earliest military veteran organizations in 
Georgia was the Oglethorpe Light Infantry Association, 
I 'Minded in 1865. 

I Eighteen sixty-five found the companies at home, but 
minus many gallant comrades. . . . Desirous of cherish- 
ing the memories of their fallen comrades, they came to- 
gether and organized a society of social and civil character, 

I hough retaining the name of Oglethorpe, and upon the 
"restoration" of the State they reorganized a military 
company. . . . 21 

in 1867 at Campbellton, Georgia the wife of Lieutenant 
Colonel Thomas C. Glover called the members of her late 
husband's original unit — Company A, Twenty-first Georgia 
Regiment — together in reunion. Twelve men were present 
til. this first meeting. It was agreed to hold annual re- 
unions as long as any two of them survived. The next 
year thirty survivors of the 200 who went to war were 

I I resent. These veterans vowed to teach their children the 

I rue cause, to be proud of their part in the conflict, and 
to impress upon them that "we were overcome by numbers 
— not whipped, but overcome." 22 Other states also had 
Company veteran associations, such as the Richmond How- 
Itzers in Virginia, 23 and the Jackson Guards (Company 
1 1 , First Arkansas Regiment) organized at Jacksonport 
in April, 1877. 24 

Regiments did not lend themselves to the formation of 

tnall, closely knit veterans' associations since usually the 

mirviving members were scattered over a wide area, often 

g " Charleston News and Courier, July 26, 1876 (hereinafter Courier) . 
u ' Ibid., June 28, 1876. 

M Minutes of the Twenty-fifth Annual Meeting and Reunion of the 
United Confederate Veterans (New Orleans, n.d.), 120 (hereinafter 

II CV Minutes). 

*»RHSP, X, 233-235 (1882). 
' Hevens, 53-56. 

BOUND Ffnfi ft ioc Ji 





in different states. At best, this type of organization was 
suitable for an annual reunion, but it was difficult for 
such groups to perform much charitable and memorial 
work as a unit. 

Typical of the regimental form of organization was the 
Third North Carolina Infantry Association, organized 
February 2, 1866, and claiming to be the oldest veteran 
organization of its kind. The founding came about when 
the officers met to receive the remains of Colonel William 
M. Parsley. 25 Another of the early regimental organi- 
zations was that of the Old First Virginia Infantry Asso- 
ciation, founded in 1867. It held annual meetings there- 
after on July 18. 28 The Third Georgia Regiment met in 
1874 at Union Point in its first annual reunion. 27 In 
Arkansas the First Arkansas Infantry was holding annual 
reunions by 1880. 28 

The brigade was even more unsuitable as a form of " 
organization than the regiment, but here the Confederate 
generals entered the picture. A general who rose to fame 
with a brigade was likely to become the prime mover in 
reorganizing its association. The size of such an organi- 
zation guaranteed a large audience worthy of these gen- 
erals' oratorical prowess. One of the earliest brigade 
associations was founded at a meeting of members of 
Reynolds' Arkansas brigade in Little Rock on November 
29-30, 1866. The meeting was called by General D. H. 
Reynolds to establish a society 

to aid the destitute widows and orphans of their deceased 
comrades; to assist the disabled; to erect a monument to 
perpetuate the memory of those whose lives were given in 
a noble cause, and to prepare and publish a history of the 
brigade, only a small remnant of which numerous band is 
now [1866] living. 

25 CV, XIII, 341 (Aug., 1905). 

26 Ibid., 391 (Sept., 1905). 

27 Katharine D. Lumpkin, The Making of a Southerner (New York, 
1947), 111. 

28 Fort Smith (Ark.) Herald, Aug. 6, 1881. 

A fter many speeches by Reynolds and others, a constitution 
Was adopted and Reynolds was elected president. 29 

In 1875 Cabell's brigade was organized at Clarksville, 
Arkansas. Five hundred and fifty ex-Confederates were 
present at this meeting which took place in the courthouse. 
Al'ter music by the Clarksville Cornet Band, General 
i labell — newly elected temporary chairman of the group — 
eloquently reviewed the character of the fallen, the battles 
I'o tight by the brigade, and made a moving appeal for the 
mirvivors not to forget the lessons of the war. Following 
it day of oratory and barbecue, another meeting resulted 
in a permanent organization with Cabell as president. 30 

One of the first brigade associations in South Carolina 
was organized in Charleston on June 1, 1869 by the sur- 
viving officers of the First Brigade, South Carolina Regu- 
l.ns. The meeting was called to create an association and 
raise funds for a monument to the dead. At this gathering 
Lieutenant John C. Minot, chairman of the Committee on 
I i< -solutions, reminded his listeners of the changes brought 
nbout by defeat, and urged them to organize at once : "Then 
We were strong in numbers, strong in discipline, and strong 
In hope. Now we are decimated, disorganized, and op- 
pressed." Colonel Alfred Rhett was elected president of 
Hie association which initiated two projects: one to raise 

I u iids for the proposed monument; the other to prepare a 
history of the brigade. 31 

Another well known brigade, Terry's Texas Rangers, 
i mined a veterans' association in December, 1867 to pro- 
mote the erection of a monument on the capitol grounds 
ill Austin in commemoration of their part in the war. 32 
In September, 1883 at Sparta, Tennessee members of Gen- 
iral G. G. Dibrell's brigade organized and elected Dibrell 
president. This group sought to perpetuate the friendships 

I I f the war, to keep in touch with each other, and to prepare 

»» Gazette, Dec. 1, 1866. 
■» Ibid., Oct. 22, 1875. 
»' Courier, May 7, 1869; June 5, 1869. 
CV, V, 195, 254 (May, June, 1897). 





a history of the brigade. 33 In nearby Missouri, General 
Joe Shelby's brigade formed an association in 1885. 34 

Military units furnished a basis of organization where 
the veterans lived in a fairly compact area. There was, 
however, a need for veterans' associations based upon 
geographic divisions — city, county and state — to give all 
the men living near each other, regardless of where and 
with whom they had served, a chance to participate in 
the program. 

Typical of the early city-wide associations were those 
founded in Memphis and Charleston. The Confederate 
Relief and Historical Association of Memphis was founded 
in 1866 by a group of ex-soldiers and sailors in order to 
preserve the history of the war, and to take care of needy 
veterans. By 1869 the group had 225 members with Isham 
G. Harris, former governor of Tennessee, serving as presi- 
dent. Jefferson Davis became a member when he moved 
to Memphis, attended meetings regularly, and was fre- 
quently called to preside over the proceedings. 35 In July, 
1866 a number of officers and men formed the Charlesto 
Survivor's Association. The main object was to aid their 
disabled comrades and the widows and orphans of those 
who had fallen in battle or by disease. Colonel P. C. 
Gaillard was elected president and lesser positions were 
filled by three generals, a commodore, a colonel and a 
captain. 36 Another city veteran group was organized at 
Walhalla, South Carolina in 1866. General Wade Hampton 
was the orator for the founding ceremony. In his speech 
he refought the war, praised the gallantry of his men, and 
emphasized that the "Lost Cause" was right. Warming 
up, he attacked the Radical policy, and castigated Phil 
Sheridan for banning Confederate societies in New 
Orleans. He warmly lauded the charitable and memorial 
aims of this new organization. 37 

**Ibid., 147 (Apr., 1897). 

s * Fort Smith (Ark.) Elevator, May 22, 1885. 

35 CV, V, 566 (Nov., 1897) ; J. Harvey Mathes, The Old Guard in 
Gray (Memphis, 1897), 20-21. 

36 Courier, July 27, 1866. 37 Ibid., Oct. 10, 1866. 

( !ounty veteran associations came into great prominence 
In the 1870's and 1880's. This type of unit was well 
lUited for annual reunions, and in some instances was 
UCCessful in county-wide charitable services for veterans. 
One of the earliest was that of the Confederate Veteran's 
AtiNociation of Fulton County, Georgia. On April 20, 1886, 
In response to appeals in the press, 182 veterans met in 
i In' Fulton County Courthouse. A permanent organization 
wiiH effected to promote social relations, to provide aid for 
ii n fortunate veterans, to care for the resting places of the 
(lend, and to gather material for the preparation of a true 
hlltory of the war. 38 

State veteran organizations were difficult to achieve 
Until local societies had been formed and interest in the 

vement developed to a higher degree. Too, the most 

pressing postwar problems were primarily local in char- 
ii Her: reburial, cemetery care, and help to needy veterans 
i ir their families. The only state association formed in 
I he 1860's was the Survivor's Association of South Carolina 
Which developed in 1869 through the leadership of veteran 
K roups in the Charleston area. Two hundred delegates 
representing groups throughout the state adopted a con- 
Ititution and elected General Wade Hampton president of 
ttie state association. At the 1872 state convention the 
ile legates resolved: 

lo advocate vigorously the inauguration of district asso- 
ciations throughout the State, as the only sure means of 
n > I luting statistics and preserving the records of the past, 
ii ml thereby furnishing material for the preparation of 
the history of our people, in which at least justice may be 
i Id i ie the dead, and the living taught to know their deeds 
■ ■I valor and to revere their memories. 39 

I ti 1871 the Society of the Army and Navy of the Con- 
foderate States in the State of Maryland was organized and 
lift promoter, General Bradley T. Johnson, became presi- 

Etodgers, 7, 108-118. 
nw Courier, Nov. 13, 19, 1869; Dec. 11, 1872. 






dent. Veterans, their sons, and honorary members sym- 
pathetic to the aims of the society were included in the 
organization. 40 

The Association of Confederate Soldiers, Tennessee Di- 
vision, was organized at Nashville in October, 1876. The 
association immediately chartered Frank Cheatham Biv- 
ouac No. 1 at Nashville, and other bivouacs were formed 
throughout the state. By 1889 there were seventeen 
bivouacs, or camps, in the Tennessee organization. 41 

The Ex-Confederate Association of Missouri, founded 
September 28, 1881 at a meeting of several hundred vet- 
erans in Moberly, elected General John S. Marmaduke 
president, along with a vice president for each con- 
gressional district in the state. 42 In Georgia the Fulton 
County Confederate Veteran's Association promoted the 
organization of the Confederate Survivor's Association of 
Georgia, which was created in Atlanta, August 15, 1889. 
General John B. Gordon was elected commander-in-chief. 
Divisions of the state association coincided with the 
boundaries of Congressional districts. This was a rather 
loose federated system which left local organizations 
virtual autonomy. 43 

During the period 1865-1889 veteran associations of 
interstate proportions were of little consequence. Some 
such movements were planned but in reality they were 
rather weak, save in a very few states. One organization 
with limited success was the Association of the Army of i 
Northern Virginia, founded November 4, 1870 at a meet- 
ing called primarily to erect a memorial to General Lee. 
General Jubal A. Early, the first president, appointed a] 
vice president and two assistants for each state. Among 
the vice presidents were General Beauregard for Louisiana, 

40 Roster of Officers and Members of the Society . . . (Baltimore, 
1888), 3-7. 

41 Confederate Gray Book, 1911 (Nashville, n.d.), 18; Minutes of 
the Second Convention of the Association of Confederate Soldiers, 
Tennessee Division (Nashville, 1889), 4-5 (hereinafter Tennessee 

Ivf'ZTl 1A "t & S I 

42 Confederate Annals, I, 34-36 (June, 1883). 

43 Rodger s, 19. 

General Gordon for Georgia, General S. D. Lee for 
Mississippi, and General Wade Hampton for South Caro- 
lina. They were charged with the duty of organizing 
IC-cieties in their respective states to be called "Divisions." 44 
General Bradley T. Johnson, head of the committee on 
organization, laid down the future policy of the association: 

We propose to testify to the world and to history our 
iiliiding faith and perfect confidence in the cause in which 
\w fought, as the cause of Patriotism and Honor, Justice 
mikI Right, and, above all, that it is the cause of consti- 
tutional and civil liberty on this continent. We are not of 
I hose who believe that this is a lost cause. . . . We believe 
I hat the issue of the late struggle is but temporary. . . . 

The great defenses are still left. Trial by jury, free 
ipeech, free press, a voice and a share in making the laws. 
With these weapons we shall regain our lost rights, we 
ithall recover our despoiled liberties. . . . 45 

This committee report further stated that it was the duty 
■ ■I each unit of the new organization to collect materials 
for history, such as muster rolls, and forward them to the 
irehives of the society. In this way alone could the 
iichievements of the Army of Northern Virginia be per- 
petuated, justice done to the dead and the living, and the 
Oause for which they fought. Hope was expressed that 
I In' friendships formed "in the service of our country" 
might be preserved in the future annual meetings. 46 

The Virginia Division of the Army of Northern Virginia 
Association came into being the following year, 1871, at a 
meeting held in the House of Delegates in Richmond. After 
ixlopting a constitution the body elected General Fitzhugh 
hoe its first president. The Virginia Division remained 
the most active one formed, and long had a successful 
"i ionization. Its annual meetings were notable for the 
llU'ge crowds and the thrilling and lengthy orations. 47 

"Jones, 9-10, 42-44; SHSP, XXII, 284 (1894). 

' .lones, 45-46. 4S Ibid., 44, 48. 47 Ibid., 48, 90, 127. 





In September, 1875 the Louisiana Division of the ANV 
was founded. This became a leading charitable society, 
especially in the New Orleans area. 48 Except for the 
activity in Virginia and Louisiana, the grand scheme of 
a South-wide Army of Northern Virginia Association re- 
mained only on paper. 

Another organization, the Grand Camp Confederate 
Veterans, was begun in Virginia. It likewise planned to 
cover all of the Southern states. The original camp — 
R. E. Lee No. 1 of Richmond — chartered other camps in 
Virginia, Tennessee, and Mississippi. By 1890 the camps 
in these states had grouped themselves into divisions. The 
Grand Camp movement, powerful in Virginia, but only 
nominally so in Tennessee and Mississippi, was not adopted 
in other states on a division basis. 49 

The Benevolent Association of the Army of Tennessee, 
Louisiana Division, was organized in New Orleans in May, 
1887 with General P. G. T. Beauregard heading the 105 
member group. According to the charter, the aims of th< 
association were to be "strictly Social, Historical, and 
Benevolent. . . ." Members were urged to cultivate ties of 
friendship between survivors, to keep fresh the memories 
of the dead, to aid the widows and orphans, and to per 
petuate the deeds of heroism by collecting material for the 
future historian. Although some interest was shown in 
Tennessee, this association never spread to other states 
as planned. 50 

Many organizations leaned heavily upon veterans for 
leadership and support without being exclusively veteran 
in membership. Typical of this classification was the 
Southern Historical Association — veteran inspired and led 
for many years. Founded May 1, 1869 in New Orleans, 
its objectives were the collection, classification, preser- 

* S SHSP, IX, 213-214 (1881). 

iS CV, I, 83 (March, 1893); UCV Minutes (1st), 29; Mississippi 
Proceedings (2nd), 3-4; Proceedings, 13th Annual Reunion, Grand 
Camp Confederate Veterans, Department of Virginia (Richmond, 
1900), 5, 22 (hereinafter Virginia Proceedings) . 

60 Roll of the Association of the Army of Tennessee, Louisiana 
Division (New Orleans, n.d.), 1-2. 



1 1 ion, and final publication of all documents and facts 
m ilating to the war to insure that a true account of the 

i niggle would be written. These objectives were identical 

1 1 1 1 the historical motives of purely veteran organizations. 
(imieral Jubal A. Early was elected the first president, and 
ttll lesser officials were also military men. 51 

The general characteristics of these early veteran organi- 

il ions were such as to invite little criticism from veterans 
01 outsiders. Public-spirited and reasonably broad-minded 
oi outlook, the groups were usually a constructive force 
In I, heir communities. 

Karly veteran organizations were characterized by 

hong and able leadership. It was generally the ex- 
1 Ion federate officers — men of proven leadership ability in 
war — who initiated the move for organizations of all types, 
ilotninated the preliminary meetings, and then got them- 

Ives elected to the most important positions. Generals 
ninl colonels probably held over half of the offices in the 
I'nrly stages of the movement. There was little rotation of 
llicse offices: ordinarily the officials were re-elected as 
long as they lived or cared to keep the office. Positions 

i leadership in the societies restored to the ex-officer class 
n measure of prominence they had known and enjoyed 
-lining the war. 52 Leadership was strong and able, but 
In order to distribute the tasks and the honors as much 
M possible most of the work was actually handled by 
I mnmittees. 

A predictable characteristic of veterans' organizations 
Wiib that they were usually formed on a military pattern. 
Civilian titles were discreetly used immediately after the 
unr, but later on military titles were used almost ex- 
clusively. Military in form, in fact the organizations were 
ili'iuocratic and representative in practice and procedure. 
Only certain pleasant aspects of the old military life were 
I lin-ished by veterans — military discipline was not among 
l hose selected to be honored and preserved. 

11 I'roceedings of the Southern Historical Convention . . . 1873, 3-11. 
Lumpkin, 112. 




Membership was more restricted in the early associations 
than in later years. Generally, membership was grant© 
only to those who had served honorably, although many 
groups admitted non-veterans to honorary or associate 
membership. In some cases a new member had to be red 
ommended for membership by one belonging to the group, 
and then the admission passed upon by a committee. A 
few early associations were limited to ex-officers, but thi 
practice was short-lived. 53 All restrictions gradually dis- 
appeared, except the one requiring honorable service — a 
thing often hard to prove or disprove. Veteran organ! 
zations were supported by rather high dues at first, ranging 
from $1.00 to $5.00 per year. These dues were lowerec 
as the movement broadened, until by 1889 $1.00 or lesi 
per year was customary. 

Meetings were not secret, and often were held withl 
guests present ; the purely business meeting was rare. The I 
most popular gathering found guests present, business 
held to a minimum, and most of the evening spent listening 
to orations or enjoying other entertainment. Regular 
monthly meetings seemed to be the most common. Inj 
addition, the annual reunion soon became widely accepted. 

Oratory was a trademark of the early associations. Th 
movement brought together men who had something to sa 
or who wanted to hear these things said over and over. 
"As long as there is talk, there is hope," seemed to be th 
veterans' creed, and their meetings provided the arena 

One prohibition common to all constitutions forbade any] 
activity in favor of a religious or political faction, and 
prohibited all religious or political discussions at official 
meetings. This proviso seems to have been faithfully 
observed without difficulty; politics was something else, 
and such a prohibition proved to be very difficult t 

By the 1880's the Confederate veteran movement, thoug 
sketchy and poorly co-ordinated, had been securely launched. 

ttl course of organization was logically adapted to the 
invlronment and the troubled times. And, although this 
in rly movement failed to attract the majority of the 
\ I'U'rans, it laid the groundwork for rapid expansion after 
IHKi). Leaders were trained and ready for even greater 
m livity. Points of friction were slowly eliminated from 
bhe constitutions and by-laws and a suitable pattern for 
organization evolved. The solid accomplishments of many 
Of these associations received wide publicity, thereby 
c routing among veterans a desire to reunite with their old 
I omrade. Besides building the framework of an enlarged 

I « Tans' program, the early organizations were significant 
Imcause of the charitable work they performed. The help 
riven needy veterans and their dependents came at a time 

1 1. -ii public aid was either non-existent or inadequate. 

53 CV, XIII, 341 (Aug., 1905); Confederate Veteran Association of\ 
Kentucky, 12. 



Chapter II 

Uke United (confederate Vet 


The year 1889 found Confederate veterans astL 
From assorted veteran organizations scattered throughout 
the South came news of pleasant reunions, appeals to ai< 
unfortunate veterans, and a deluge of resolutions anc 
oratory which indicated a revived interest in all things 
Confederate. A few state-wide organizations were ii. 
existence, but there was nothing approaching an overall 
association for Southerners like the Union veterans' Granc 
Army of the Republic. 

Clearly the time had come for the Confederates to unite 
in one organization which could speak with a strong voice 
for all, for the problems facing them were now too bij 
for local solution. Defeat and the trials of the postwai 
years had prevented a Southern counterpart to the GAR, 
but in 1889 the Confederates, possessing valuable experi- 
ence gained from early organizations, were ready to move 
forward toward a central association. Such an organi- 
zation would serve the same purposes as those already ii 
existence, only these objectives might be expedited with 
more co-ordination and with less overlapping of effort. 
General Bennett H. Young, later commander-in-chief oi 
the United Confederate Veterans, wrote of this need foi 
a unified organization: 

Societies scattered here and there throughout the South 1 
were an echo of this desire of the men who wore the gras 
to become assimilated into one strong and vigorous bod> 
which, while preserving every patriotic impulse, should 
yet crystallize a deep and undying sentiment of love and! 

devotion to the glorious memories of the past and assign 
!u the men who followed the stars and bars their proper 
place in the military and civil history of the world. 1 

Indeed, time and circumstance had made the late 1880's 

| propitious era for veterans to organize. By then the war 

had taken on a rosy glow, even to the most hardened 

ill-liter. The appeal of reminiscing with old comrades at 

I reunion, a campfire, or a barbecue was well nigh irresist- 

Ible now that home life had become rather dull. Also, 

there was more leisure time because many veterans had 

m Moved a measure of financial security or at least were 

n inking "a living." Few fraternal or business clubs could 

make such an appeal to the ex-Confederate as one composed 

Of follow veterans. With a central association they might 

Ii nre aid for their needy comrades, the "cause" could be 

i.«lcemed, and the sanctification of Confederate heroes 

i uiiduded. 

On a personal level such an organization could glorify 
the veterans' hardest years and add luster to their names. 
Il.'klom stated, but ever present, was the idea of getting 
personal benefits through organization by means of political 
pressure. Pensions, government aid, and soldiers' homes 
might be had from the state governments, if only the 

eterans organized so that their claims could be presented 

properly. And, indeed, there might even be something to 

rn in from the United States Government itself. By 1889 

iditions were thus favorable for the formation of a 

i e,. ion-wide Confederate veterans' association. 

The meeting which resulted in the formal organization 

Of the United Confederate Veterans was called by a 

jfimeral committee representing three Louisiana veterans' 

.inizations: the Louisiana Division of the Army of 

■ rthern Virginia, the Louisiana Division of the Army of 

Tennessee, and the Veteran Confederate States Cavalry 

\ iMociation. This call for a convention to be held in New 
1 'i leans on June 19, 1889 was issued to all veteran soldiers 

J CV, XX, 259 (June, 1912). 




and sailors of the Confederate States, urging them to send 
delegates for the purpose of forming a new association. 

Nine separate organizations from Louisiana and Ten- 
nessee sent fifty-two delegates to New Orleans where a 
permanent organization was effected. General John B 
Gordon, head of the Georgia Veteran Association, was 
elected the first commander-in-chief of the UCV. Chatta 
nooga, Tennessee was selected as the site of the first annual 
convention to be held in 1890. 

The constitution, as adopted, was rather brief; with a 
few amendments, it served the organization for its life 
time. The purposes for founding the organization were 
set forth in Article 1 : 

The objects and purposes of this organization will be 
strictly social, literary, historical, and benevolent. It will 
endeavor to unite in a general federation all Associations 
of Confederate Veterans . . . now in existence or hereafter 
to be formed; to gather authentic data for an impartial 
history of the war between the States; to preserve relici 
or mementoes of the same ; to cherish the ties of friendship 
that should exist among men who have shared common 
dangers, common sufferings and privations; to care for 
the disabled, and extend a helping hand to the needy; to 
protect the widows and the orphans, and to make and 
preserve a record of the services of every member, and as 
far as possible of those of our comrades who have pre- 
ceeded us in eternity. 

After assuming office, General Gordon issued an address 
to all veterans, stating the above purposes of the UCV and 
calling for their active participation in this organization: 

It is a brotherhood over which the genius of philantrophy 
and patriotism, of truth and of justice will preside; of 
philantrophy because it will succor the disabled, help the 
needy, strengthen the weak, and cheer the disconsolate; 
of patriotism, because it will cherish the past glories of the 
dead Confederacy and transmute them into living in 
spirations for future service to the living republic; of 



I ruth, because it will seek to gather and preserve as wit- 
nesses for history the unimpeachable facts which shall 
doom falsehood to die that truth may live; of justice, 
because it will cultivate national as well as Southern 
fraternity and will condemn narrow-mindedness and prej- 
udice and passion, and cultivate that broader, higher 
t i<»bler sentiment which would write on the grave of every 
noldier who fell on either side: 'Here lies an American 
hero — a martyr to the right as his conscience conceived it.' 
... I call upon you, therefore, to organize in every state 
niid community where ex-Confederates may reside and 
rtlly to the support of the high and peaceful objects of the 
United Confederate Veterans/ and move forward until 
liy the power of organization and persistent effort your 
be deficient and Christian purposes are fully accomplished. 

The UCV was modeled after the military in structure, 
I't Mictions, and command. On the top level was the General 
Headquarters, administered by a commander-in-chief who 
was to be elected annually by the General Convention. 
He was the chief executive and administrative officer. 
Hi' presided over the conventions, supervised the organi- 

il ion of new camps and divisions, and generally served 
tin the spokesman for the society. He was assisted by his 
n Pi jointed staff which included an adjutant general and 
I hief-of -staff, a quartermaster general, and a chaplain 
Ifoneral. Permanent committees on history, relief, finance, 
mikI monuments plus various special committees were 
I reated. The main work of headquarters was performed 
by the adjutant-general who received and accounted for 
i lues and other fees from the member camps, issued orders 
In the name of the commanding general, dispatched letters, 
imuI kept the minutes of the organization. Outside of 
preparing annual reports or discharging occasional com- 
mittee work, the remainder of the staff was largely orna- 

Under the General Headquarters came the Department 
Headquarters which corresponded to an army corps. Orig- 
Iniilly, there were only two departments, one on each side 





of the Mississippi, but a new plan of organization in 1894 
resulted in the establishment of the Army of Northern 
Virginia Department, the Army of Tennessee Department, 
and the Trans-Mississippi Department. Each was com- 
manded by a lieutenant general, also elected by the annual 
convention. Each department commander appointed a 
staff similar to that of the commanding general. The 
lieutenant generals acted as advisors to the commander- 
in-chief, and were charged with the duty of building up 
the number of divisions and camps in their commands. 
Department Headquarters served as clearing houses for 
orders and correspondence flowing between the divisions 
and the central office. Otherwise, the department offices 
had little to do. 

The divisions of the UCV came usually to correspond 
with state boundaries. A major general, elected by the 
annual division convention, commanded the division with 
the assistance of a staff similar to that of the higher 
headquarters. In states containing many camps, two or 
more brigade headquarters, commanded by brigadier 
generals, were often interposed between divisional and 
individual camps. 

The camp, post, or bivouac was the working unit of 
the UCV. Holding the rank of captain, the camp com- 
mander was elected annually. He too was privileged to 
have a large staff in order to honor as many members as 
possible. The camp was the continuing center of interest — 
social, historical, and charitable — and yielded in stature 
to the divisional or central headquarters only at annual 
reunion time. 

The UCV had a legislative function which was exercised 
by all members of a camp in local matters, and by elected 
delegates in higher conventions. The delegates could amend 
their constitutions, adopt new by-laws and rules, and by 
passing resolutions lay down policies for the commanders 
to follow. Therefore, the source of power and authority in 
the UCV resided in individual members who exercised their 
power through their chosen delegates to the conventions. 

The. characteristics and special features of the UCV 
tvolved from the experience gained in earlier organizations. 
The popular military form was continued and expanded. 
Prom the commanding general down to the camps were 
lliousands of general and field grade officers commissioned 
by the UCV. In the early years of the organization almost 
nil of the general positions were held by former generals, 
but with time many a private of wartime found himself a 
"General, U. C. V.," and was content to let his admirers 
itHHume that he held the same rank during the war. The 
UCV, using the military system on a larger scale than had 
I wen possible in the smaller organizations, was shackled 
With useless paper work, a confused chain of command, 
mid a farcical pretense of military discipline. The only 
Orders, written or oral, ever obeyed scrupulously were those 
culling for attendance at a reunion or picnic, a parade or 
ii grand ball. The military form was a facade covering 
basically a democratic and representative type of asso- 
ciation. The outward form and the inner workings were 
inconsistent and irreconciliable, but the veterans liked both 
features and clung to them. 

One characteristic of the UCV which stood out (in spite 
Of the superstructure of hierarchy) was that of local self- 
iM)vernment. Article 12 of the constitution stated that the 
Various organizations would have "the full enjoyment of 
the right to govern themselves." This made possible the 
n/wimilation of many early organizations which had dif- 
forent objectives and varied membership qualifications. As 
long as the camp had its constitution and by-laws approved 
by UCV, however, it could continue in its old ways of 
nr II -rule. 

Article 8 of the UCV constitution stated that each camp 
"will be expected to require of each applicant for member- 
nhip satisfactory proof of honorable service and discharge 
In the Confederate Army or Navy." Although many plans 
Were devised to broaden the membership by admitting 
nous of veterans, this was never done. No one ever became 
eligible for membership, except soldiers and sailors of the 





Confederacy, although non-voting honorary and associate 
memberships were often granted. This stand on member 
ship naturally doomed the UCV to an ultimate death. 

Another strong feature of the UCV meetings was tha 
they were non-secret, informal, without ritual, and varied 
often being open to guests and coupled with social affairs 
Thus, meetings were designed to suit local needs and tc 
cater to local interests. 

Following the pattern of the early organizations, the 
UCV was declared to be non-political by its constitution 
Article 14 prohibited the discussion of political or religious 
subjects, as well as any political activity within the organ! 
zation. Any unit violating this prohibition was to forfeit 
its membership in the parent association. 

A characteristic of great value was the strong leadership 
which sparked the UCV, especially in its early period of 
growth. Generally, the men heading the units possessed 
distinguished records of leadership; moreover, most of 
them had proved themselves as leaders in the early veteran 
movement and in postwar civil life. Surely the deft, firig 
leadership of General Gordon, the commander-in-chief 
from 1889 to 1904, was a big factor in the rapid growth of 
the UCV. His magnificient, strong voice could reach the 
largest convention crowd, whether in quelling an im- 
promptu rally or in leading a song. Gordon had that rare 
ability of saying the right thing at the right time; he' 
carried all with his tact, firmness, and common sense. 
His commanding presence and bearing cast a spell oveM 
his fellow veterans. Under his able leadership the organi 
zation reached its peak in size and influence. 

General Stephen D. Lee succeeded General Gordon i 
1904 and served almost four years. 3 After Lee the comj 
manding generals died off rather rapidly and there were 
no long periods of unbroken leadership. One particularl; 
strong leader was General W. L. Cabell, who commande 

*SHSP, XIX, 175-177 (1891). 

3 Dictionary of American Biography (New York, 1928-), XI, 130- 
131 (hereinafter DAB). 



i In- Trans-Mississippi Department from 1894 until 1910. 4 
Me acted as commander-in-chief for a short time in 1908 
i'"l lowing Lee's death. An inspiring leader in his depart- 
mmiiI, and throughout the whole organization, Cabell visited 
ill the divisions under him and personally did much to build 
ii 1 1 l,he strength and influence of the whole organization. 

In time, of course, the real generals died out and the new 

loaders, lacking their aura of fame and prestige, carried 

nil to the best of their ability in the pattern set by their 

revered predecessors. 

The growth of the UCV in size and influence was ex- 

dinghy swift during the 1890's and in the first few 

i rs of the new century. Early and rapid growth had 
I it 'en the result of a pent-up desire and need for such an 
Organization. It came about by assimilation of older 
I irrans' organizations and by the formation of new camps 
nil the recruiting of new members. Some earlier asso- 
i "I ions were taken over by the UCV, losing their old 
iilintity completely. Others, such as the Association of 
1 ' >M federate Soldiers, Tennessee Division, and the Grand 
( 'nmp Confederate Veterans, Virginia Division, joined the 
IK V, but at the same time kept their older organizations The members belonged to both the UCV and the 
parent association. 5 In general, however, the UCV was 
aide to replace the older organizations and to assimilate 
I limn completely. By this process of taking over camps 
already active by 1889, the UCV was able to gain strength 
PApidly and with little effort. 

In states such as Missouri, where Confederate organi- 
sations had made little progress by 1889, the UCV set about 
wilfiblishing camps and recruiting members. In 1895 Gen- 
eral Gordon commissioned J. O. Shelby as a major general, 
Mini directed him, as commander of the Missouri Division, 
to organize camps in his command. By 1906 this effort 

« Ibid., Ill, 390-391. 
CV, XXIII, 8 (Jan., 1915), 8; Tennessee Minutes (5th), 7-8. 






had resulted in the formation of seventy-nine camps within 
that state. 6 

No doubt the great strides made by the UCV can be 
explained in part by the fact that the new organizatioi 
offered so much to the individual veteran. He saw that 
through its reunions and other highly publicized event 
it was becoming his recognized spokesman as well as the 
voice of the "New South." The UCV social functions 
appealed to him also. From a purely personal standpoint, 
therefore, the UCV offered him valuable assistance ii 
establishing his eligibility for certain stage benefits. Or 
a broader scale it appealed to him because it appeared to be 
a political body through which he hoped would bring about 
the passage of laws beneficial to himself and his comrades. 

Exploiting this popularity, the UCV rose in membership, 
number of camps, and in influence at breath-taking pace 
in the 1890's. By 1903 it had reached its zenith. The 
annual reunion of that year, the last one presided over bj| 
General Gordon, marked perhaps the turning point in its 
history. The summit had been reached in fourteen years; 
the long, slow downhill march toward extinction had begun. 
In 1903 there were 1,523 camps in the organization, about 
half of which were in good standing. The number of 
delegates at this convention was the largest ever — a total 
of 2,405. 7 They represented an estimated 47,000 active 
members and at least 35,000 inactive members (almost all] 
of whom were not in good standing because of non-payment 
of dues) . Thus the UCV had a top membership of arounc 
80,000, at least one-third of all living Confederate veterans. 8 ] 

6 Missouri Proceedings (10th), 13-17. 

7 UCV Minutes (13th), 72. 

8 The UCV never officially published its exact membership. Instead 
it stressed in its reports the number of camps chartered and the 
number of delegates to the convention. A contributing cause to this 
neglect was, no doubt, the wide difference between the paid-up 
membership and the total membership. Only about 50 per cent ofl 
the total camps remained in good standing at any given time, in»J 
dicating that 50 per cent or less of the total members kept up with 
their dues. The number of delinquent members might possibly have] 
been lower than indicated because the larger camps tended to be more 
prompt in the payment of dues. The 10 <£ per capita annual duesf 
sent to UCV Headquarters in 1903 amounted to $4,732.28, indicating 

After 1903 additional camps were chartered, but mem- 
lu>i\ship dropped off in consequence of an advancing death 
'ilc During the 1890's one large camp usually met the 
llCeds of all the veterans in a county. As they grew older 
find were inconvenienced by travel, the trend was toward 
I Hablishing camps of smaller membership in each com- 
munity where veterans resided. 

Another factor to be considered was the percentage of 
living veterans who belonged to the organization. As they 
pew older, 100 percent was approached, chiefly because 
i lir veterans became scarce enough to be considered oddities. 
When this happened, membership was practically brought 
In them instead of their having to seek it. Still, the UCV 
|| a force in social, economic, and political affairs was at 
1 1 1 height in the late 1890's and the early years of the 
Twentieth Century, when its membership represented only 
' minority of the living veterans. Afterwards, the society 
nliiwly became a relic of the "Lost Cause" — its cudgel taken 
ii |) by the willing, if often over-zealous hands of the United 
I laughters of the Confederacy or the Sons of Confederate 
Veterans. If by 1910 the UCV had become a relic, it was 
I fossil by the 1930's. Still it persisted until 1950, when 
I lir sixtieth and final annual reunion was held. 9 

The annual reunion of the UCV came to be one of the 
most important and highly publicized events in the South. 
Its overtones even reached into the United States at large. 
This spectacle served as a mirror, reflecting the many 
facets of the veterans' ideals and aspirations as well as the 
nature of the association itself. The general reunion, being 
but an enlargement of the annual camp and division re- 
unions, also furnished a convenient insight into all such 

The city selected for the annual reunion faced a tremen- 
dous undertaking. For months in advance citizens' com- 

llmt there were about 47,000 paid-up members. Since half of the 
rumps and presumably less than half of the members did not pay 
llicse per capita dues, the total membership was somewhere around 

10,000 to 85,000 (see UCV Minutes [3rd], 27). 

Time, LVIII, 78 (March 5, 1951). 



mittees raised funds and made plans so that the occasion 
would be successful. In 1900 Louisville, Kentucky raised 
$70,000 to promote the reunion. 10 The citizens' committee 
ran short of funds at Birmingham in 1908 because more 
veterans came than expected, but an emergency call for 
more funds netted $10,000 in short order. 11 Quite often 
the city government would make an appropriation to swell 
privately solicited funds. Macon, Georgia, for example, 
appropriated $10,000 in 1912 while $60,000 was raised by 
the sponsoring committee. 12 

The reunion city had to establish facilities to lodge and] 
feed the expected throngs. Veterans of means usually 
stayed at hotels or with local friends. Those in less 
fortunate circumstances were quartered free in hotels or 
in private homes. At the 1907 Richmond reunion "Camp 
John W. Gordon," a temporary tent city, was set up to 
house the veterans, affording the old soldiers a chance to 
enjoy camp life again, this time with adequate blankets, 
food, and almost continuous entertainment. Some 5,000 
veterans slept at Camp Gordon and took their meals there, 
all free. So popular was the Camp Gordon plan that it 
was copied by other cities thereafter as a means of caring 
for the increasing numbers who asked for free meals and 
quarters. 13 

Food and lodging were not enough, however. The Cityi 
of Nashville in 1897 was "af flaunt with bunting, aglow 
with color. Naturally the red, white, and red was promt 
nent, but everywhere intermingled with the red, white, and 
blue. . . ," 14 If a suitable convention hall was not avail 
able, the sponsoring city often constructed one especially 
for the occasion. "Reunion Hall" was built by the Louis- 
ville committee in 1900 and presented to the UCV. The 
structure was dazzling white, draped with red and white 
bunting on which the Stars and Bars fluttered from sixteen 



flagpoles. 16 Another standard decorative feature was the 
1116 of huge pictures of Davis, Lee, Jackson and other Con- 
l'i 'derate heroes throughout the hall. 16 

After all of this preparation the reunion city finally 
Piached a frenzied crisis in its prolonged siege of "Dixie 
Fever," and the arrival of the veterans and their kinfolk 
"id spectators brought final and complete surrender of 
Hir city. By boat, train, wagon, mule, horseback, and 
Otherwise, the crowds descended upon the reunion city. 
Ill influx of 25,000 to 35,000 veterans and another 50,000 
Or more onlookers taxed transportation facilities, and 
Bieant much hard work for the reception committees whose 
|0b was to see that all were welcomed and directed to their 
quarters. Thirty-one special trains arrived in Richmond 
the day before the 1907 reunion opened. 17 Little Rock, a 
lily of 46,000 in 1911, entertained an estimated 106,000 
i i tors. 18 The convention city waited to be conquered, 
nnxious to please, and determined to surpass the hospitality 
Of the previous host cities. 

The veterans, experienced in such conquests, had arrived 
It last. What manner of man was this ex-Confederate 
loldier, say, in 1899? How did he appear to those who had 
withered to pay him homage? A reporter at the Charleston 
i 'i invention in 1899 wrote: 

His broad shoulders are stooped, his black slouch hat 
1 1 oops over a heavily bearded face, there is plentiful gray 
In his hair and whiskers, no fashionable tailor cut his 
plain suit of grey jeans, but the band is playing Dixie and 
I lie old man steps like an emperor. He is the Confederate 
loldier; 'rebel' they have called him, and he has robbed 
Hi'' word of its scorn. This is his Reunion. ... He is 
lltir. He is on the streets alone, in groups and in com- 
panies. He shakes off the burdens of the years as lightly 
I. he plowman shakes the sweat from his brow, and his 

10 UCV Minutes (14th), 39. 

n/Wtf. (18th), 24. 

12 Ibid. (22nd), 69. 

ls Ibid. (17th), 14. 

^Harper's Weekly, XLI, 653 (July 3, 1897). 

"• UCV Minutes (10th), II, 6. 
'"Ibid. (18th), 11. 
"Ibid. (17th), 10. 
'"Ibid. (21st), 38. 





early youth has returned. The grizzled chief that he fok 
lowed is here to greet him. The lost tent mate, that long 
ago shared his parched corn, is tenting with him again. . 

The opening session of the convention was always a great 
event. The veterans were fresh, eager, and ready to get 
things underway. This opening meeting was dominated 
by speeches of welcome and the response of the command- 1 
ing general. Delegates, veterans, and spectators arrived 
long before starting time in order to get a seat, as crowds 
of 10,000 or more always jammed into the hall for this 
meeting. Ovation followed ovation as the enthusiastic 
throngs greeted the entrance of the commanding general, 
his staff, and other dignitaries. Rebel yells were the most 
boisterous and most often used form of greeting as they 
blended with the rousing strains of "Dixie." 20 Flanked 
by civil and military dignitaries and by the decorative 
maids of honor and sponsors from each state, the command- 1 
ing general took his chair on the stage. The meeting then 
opened with a prayer by the chaplain general of the UCV, 
the Reverend J. William Jones, who began each reunion 
with substantially the same prayer from year to year: 

Oh! God our help in ages past, our hope for years to 
come. God of Israel, God of Abraham, Issac and Jacob — 
God of the centuries — God of our Fathers — God of Stone- 
wall Jackson and Robert Lee, and Jefferson Davis — Lord 
of Hosts — God of the whole of our common country — God 
of our Southland — Our God ! We bring thee the adoration 
of grateful hearts as we gather in our Annual Reunion 
today. . . . 21 

By 1901 Dr. Jones was also praying for "the President ofj 
the United States and all in authority under him, that wq| 
may have wise laws and good government." 22 

19 Ibid. (9th), 8, quoting the Charleston (S. C.) Evening Post, 
May 10, 1899. 

20 UCV Minutes (3rd), 13. 
" Ibid. (6th), 7. 
™Ibid. (11th), 9. 

Two or three hours of welcome speeches and a response 
by the commanding general followed the prayer. The 
| "vnrnor of the convention state, the commander of the 
i I'M I, division, the mayor, the chairmen of committees, and 
1 1 M others vied with one another in extending a welcome 
hi the veterans. In welcoming the veterans to Nashville 
in 1897 Governor Robert L. Taylor, the noted orator, sang 
Dixie" in a low and throbbing voice as a part of his 
mldress. 23 The finance committee spokesman always tried 
I" publicize the generosity of his group and of the host city. 
A Hi la Cox, speaking for this committee at the 1900 
Louisville convention, said that his group had plenty of 

iey and was prepared to pay the bills of any soldier 

Who owed anything. Not unnaturally, this brought forth 
great applause. 2 * 

He-sides the invitations to partake freely of anything in 
I lie city, there often was a sly reference to the drinking 
habits of some of the old warriors. Governor James B. 
i''i 'azier of Tennessee in greeting the veterans at Nashville 
In 1904 said: "I welcome you to the grand old hospitable 
iliile of Tennessee. I welcome you to the warmth of her 
Mimshine, and if that a'int warm enough, I welcome you 
In some of her moonshine." Frasier was followed by the 
fnnyor who announced the virtual suspension of the law 
tin far as veterans were concerned. He said that his police 
force had been instructed to deal gently with "those who 
dill by the wayside under sun or other stroke." 25 Often 
I he veterans tired of speeches and dozed or talked to pass 
I lie time among themselves. It took a forceful speaker to 
liuld the audience as the meeting progressed. Such was 
(Icnoral Bennett H. Young, commander of the Kentucky 
1)1 vision, UCV, who thus woke up the 1905 Louisville 
I 'invention: 

('omrades: We will not fool with latch strings in of fer- 
ine you a welcome, but we will just kick down the door and 

Ibid. (7th), 18. 
Ibid. (10th), 15. 

25 Ibid. (14th), 16, 18. 






open all the windows and let you come in with us. . . . 

But no volunteer army will ever march under any flagi 

that equaled the volunteer army that marched under the 

Stars and Bars of the Confederacy. 

"That's the talk," yelled a veteran from Missouri, and 
the whole convention stood and cheered for a minute. Con- 
tinuing, General Young- said : "Everything we have is yours, 
for the time being. If there is anything you want and 
you do not see it, call for it. The law is suspended. . . .'"'■" 

The commander-in-chief, responding to the main speech 
of welcome, delivered what might be termed an "annual 
address." Besides praising the host state and paying 
tribute to those who had prepared for the convention, he 
usually added some remarks about the state of the organi 
zation. He was apt to drift into recollections of the war and 
praise of the fame of Confederates in war and also in peace. 

The only business transacted at the opening session was 
the appointment of committees. Among these, the cre- 
dentials committee had the trying task of determining 
whether the number of delegates each camp and division 
had sent corresponded with the active paid-up membership. 
Delinquent camps stoutly insisted upon representation. 
The committee usually agreed, provided back dues were 
paid at the convention. 27 

Before the actual work of the convention began, there 
were other sessions, such as the memorial meeting and the 
"oration meeting." The former was a religious servicaB 
in commemoration of the dead, the sermon being deliveredH 
by the chaplain general or by some other noted minister* 
The latter was designed to give the veterans what the» 
wanted most to hear : an account of their important place in II 
history. Senator John W. Daniel of Virginia, a Confed- 
erate himself, was an all-time favorite "Orator of the Day."] 
His address to the New Orleans convention in 1892 was 
typical of the content of all such orations. He reviewed 

i In- role of the Confederate States in history, argued that 
1 Ion federate principles were American, and stoutly main- 
I /lined that Confederates were not traitors. The brilliance 
> ' i ( Confederate generalship was expounded along with the 
OOUrage and ability of Confederate soldiers. A resume of 
Hie achievements of the South since the war usually 
I »n >ught his oration to a close. Daniel was forced to pause 
for "great applause" after almost every sentence. As he 
OMlcluded he received an ovation beyond description. 28 

The business transacted by the convention required 
Approximately one-half of the time allotted to the meetings. 
II. included four main items for consideration: the sub- 
mission of staff or committee reports for adoption or 
Pljection; resolutions brought to the floor by the committee 
DM resolutions; the selection of the next convention site; 
Hid the election of officers for the ensuing year. 

Kew members of the commanding general's staff had 
I lit- time, the inclination, or the subject matter to make 
'ii annual report. The quartermaster general usually sub- 
mitted a report of his activities, but it was customarily 
limited to thanking the railroads for granting low rates 
to the veterans and their families for travel to the con- 
vention. 29 He was also responsible for the procurement 
Hid issuance of the UCV badge and his report listed the 
mi i nber issued during the past year. 30 

The surgeon general was much addicted to report-making, 
ii i id the first holder of this office, Dr. Joseph Jones, was a 
Very active worker in his department. At the 1892 con- 
vention he reported: 

There are two objects of great importance which I have 
driven to accomplish, the first is as far as possible to 
collect and preserve all records of the medical corps of the 
i 'hi i federate army and navy; and the second, to determine 
liy actual, investigation and inquiry the numbers and con- 
dition of the surviving Confederate soldiers who have been 

"Ibid. (15th), 15-16. 

2? CV, IV, 167 (May, 1896); UCV Minutes (3rd), 61. 

Ibid., 24-46. 
Ibid. (5th), 69. 
Ibid., 70-72. 

One cent per mile was the usual rate. 





disabled by wounds and diseases received in their heroic 
defense of the rights and liberties of the Southern States. 31 ' 

Such laudable efforts and pertinent reporting were un- 
fortunately dropped by Mr. Jones's successors. For inl 
stance, at the 1904 convention in Nashville, Surgeon Gen- 
eral C. H. Tebault, ranging far from his province, stated: 

I desire in this report to contrast the strict adherence of 
the people of the South, of the Southern Confederacy, anl 
of the administration of President Jefferson Davis to] 
Constitutional Government during the war between tha 
States, as compared with that of the administration of 
President Abraham Lincoln. 32 

The report of the adjutant general, nearly always printed 
and adopted unread by the convention, was the most im- 
portant of those submitted by the staff. The main subject 
of these reports was the financial statement for the fiscal 
year ending the previous December 31. Eeceipts werej 
itemized under "camp dues," charges for commissions 
issued to officers, and donations. Receipts of over $7,000 
were reported during the peak years. Disbursements com* 
prised printing costs, postage, rent, furniture, and salaries.! 
The balance left on hand was never large after expenses! 
were met — usually only about $400. The adjutant general! 
also reported on the number of camps in the UCV, thai 
number chartered during the previous year, and the numB 
ber that had become dormant. 33 

By far the most important and influential of the com- J 
mittees which reported to the convention was that onl 
history. Committees on relief, monuments, and financaj 
existed at times, but at the top level they were of littla 
significance. Not so with history, the committee for whicrf 
was first instituted in 1892. By resolution of the New 
Orleans Convention of that year, a permanent committee 

Of seven members was to be appointed by the commanding 
i ' ncral to formulate plans to secure a true and reliable 
hlltory of the War Between the States; to "select and 
dtilgnate" histories of the United States that were "proper 
find truthful" for use as textbooks in both public and 
pi Ivate schools of the South; and to "put the seal of their 
iniulemnation" upon textbooks that were not truthfully 
Written. 3 * 

The first History Committee was appointed by General 
Gordon in August, 1892 with E. Kirby Smith as chairman. 
In its report of 1894 it declared that history, as written 
ind taught, was unfair to the South, especially in regard 
to secession and the war. To correct this situation the 
■Hi mitte recommended that each Southern university es- 
Inlilish a chair of American history to promote improved 
touching, research, and writing in this field. The com- 
mittee further advised that universities and public and 
private schools should teach one year of history of their 
imlive state, and one year of American history. UCV 

.mizations were urged to memorialize the state legis- 
Im lures and other appropriate agencies to carry out these 
fnrommendations. As a direct result of this report, the 
first chair of American history in any Southern state was 
I i.iblished at Peabody Normal College in Tennessee. 35 

In 1899 the committee appointed a sub-committee of 
lliree members for each state to examine every history 
l is I. used in that state. If defects were found, the sub- 
en nimittee was to enter into friendly correspondence with 
I In- author and publisher. These sub-committees were to 
fonder a report to the main committee each year, stating 
which history texts were in use, along with suggestions 
fur the improvement of the works and also of teaching 
niilliods employed. 36 

In addition to its watchdog duties, the History Com- 
mittee received, revised, and published twelve volumes of 

s ^Ibid. (3rd), 82. 
S2 Ibid. (14th), 2. 
33 Ibid. (15th), 2-3. 

' I hid. (3rd) 99. 

I Ibid'. (4th)' 3-6, 11; ibid. (6th), 37. 
'"Ibid. (9th), 37. 





Confederate Military History, edited by its chairman, 
Clement A. Evans." 

A second important part of the work of the annua] 
convention was the adoption of resolutions which had been 
approved by the Resolutions Committee. Although often 
windy and pompous, these resolutions came closer than 
any other UCV statements to revealing the true purpose 
and intent of the organization. Resolutions of a political 
nature were invariably adopted by this "non-political" 
association. They either urged the adoption of bills before 
the Congress or state legislatures, or they suggested tho 
substance of laws which the veterans desired. 38 . Other 
resolutions expressed the support of the UCV toward 
certain aims or projects. In 1898 the Atlanta convention 
sent a resolution by telegram to President McKinley, 
pledging men, money, and support until "an honorable 
peace is conquered from the enemy." 39 Of course, many 
resolutions were adopted expressing thanks and appre- 
ciation. Miscellaneous resolutions covered a multitude oh 
minor subjects, too varied to classify. The delegates at the 
tenth annual reunion in 1900 "Resolved, That in speaking 
of the war between the United States and the Confederate 
States it shall be hereafter designated as the war between 
the states." 40 In a lighter vein, at the Macon reunion of 
1912 "General J. F. Smith offered a resolution condemn 
ing the practice of ladies riding astride at reunions, whic 
was unanimously adopted." 41 

It was the duty of the convention to select the site <>i 
the next annual reunion. This was usually done at th 
last meeting, but the contending cities lost no time ill 
launching their campaigns. Many speeches were made 
extolling the Confederate virtues of the proposed citien 
and previewing the lavish entertainment and hospitality 
in store for the veterans. The presentation of the fairest 

37 Ibid., 152-153. The set was published in Atlanta in 1899. 
ssibid. (3rd), 54; ibid. (10th), II, 80. 

39 Ibid. (8th), 56. 

40 Ibid. (10th), 68. 

41 Ibid. (22nd), 157. 

maidens was visual advertising not neglected during this 
OOntest. A charming rendition of "Dixie" or some other 
Imloved song by a local beauty might turn the convention 
Vote to her city. The Confederate soldier's sharp eye 

Bomingly never dimmed in its appreciation and judgment 
"I feminine beauty. At the 1904 convention in Nashville 
the partisans of Louisville, hotly contending for the site 
in 1 1)05, presented to the convention charming "Little" 
Laura Talbot Gault who had refused to sing "Marching 
III rough Georgia" in a Louisville public school. The 

oung lady received an ovation and Louisville the next 
i 'invention. 42 

The election of officers for the coming year was the 
lmd, important duty of the convention. General Gordon, 
nlocted year after year in spite of his pleas for retirement, 

■ i the precedent for re-electing the commanding general 
'i I long as he would accept the job. Department com- 

ders likewise were re-elected as a matter of course. 

ill 'iioral W. L. Cabell commanded the Trans-Mississippi 
Mepartment for some sixteen years. The growing tradition 
wmh that the election of the commanding general and the 
department commanders should be above politics, and that 
there should be no active campaigning for the positions. 
After Gordon, however, this practice did not always hold 
it it< I at times there was heated campaigning throughout 
the reunion. One of the few really close contests occurred 
In 1908 when Acting Commanding General W. L. Cabell 
Wiih defeated by Clement A. Evans by a vote of 1,231 to 
l,085. 43 

'The annual parade was often the last scheduled event 
nf the reunion. In a burst of color and pathos the veterans 
|uinided before their Southern people. No other event 
lii'i night them so close together. In no other way could 
the many pay such tribute to the few. 

Hothed in gray and bearing rotting, tattered battle 
I'Iiiks, the veterans marched and rode proudly, 15,000 

**Ibid. (8th), 88-96; ibid. (14th), 50. 
^ Ibid. (18th), 129. 





strong, in their parades of the 1890's. As the yearx 
stiffened and crippled the old soldiers, they took to ridintf 
in carriages, then in automobiles, with only the most 
hardy among them still stubbornly marching. Following 
their mounted leader and his staff came the veteran 
spread out by departments, divisions, and camps. Com- 
panies of military cadets and militia and bands from all 
over the South were interspersed in the line of march, 
as were carriages or automobiles bearing prominent offi- 
cials, ladies from each state, and veterans unable to walk 
or to ride on horseback. 44 The 1907 parade in Richmond 
required over two hours to pass a given point, as 12,000 
veterans marched "along streets profusely decorated with 
flags and colors, cheered by not fewer than 200,000 people, 
and to the inspiring music of 'Dixie,' 'My Maryland,' and 
'The Bonnie Blue Flag'. . . . " i5 

Perhaps the most memorable parade ever held, in tho 
eyes of the veterans, was the one in 1917 when at lonK 
last they marched up Pennsylvania Avenue to be reviewed! 
by President Woodrow Wilson. The aged soldiers captured! 
the heart of Washington. The honor given them served] 
as a token of unity as the United States was coming to 
grips with her enemies abroad. One proud banner carried 
by the veterans proclaimed: "Call on us if the boys can't 
do it." When the Louisiana Division came in sight of th( 
reviewing stand, Chief Justice Edward D. White, a Con 
federate veteran, left his seat and marched past with hia 
comrades/ 8 

The veterans seemed to enjoy these annual parades andl 
received with modesty and dignity the loud and sincere 
plaudits of the people who had gathered to do them honoM 
Often young ladies along the line of march rushed out t<T 
plant a kiss on some unsuspecting, but receptive veteran. 
Others in the crowd offered them refreshments in an 
effort to sustain them on the long march. Many manfully 

« Ibid. (9th), 40-54. 

*5 Ibid. (17th), 118-119. 

46 Reunion of United Confederate Veterans . . . (Washington, 1918)i 

•iliirted but had to drop out, unable to continue the march. 

I liausting as the parade might have been to the old 
"Miers, it stirred the Confederate spirit and served to 

1 ' | 'I i ten the bonds between the veterans and their fellow 
| 1 1 i/.<;ns. 

The official meetings and all of the business transacted 
bj the delegates were of secondary importance to the 
musses of Confederate veterans who came to the reunion. 
To them the greatest of all attractions was the chance to 
fotell the experiences of long ago, and to relive in a brief 
i mm the days of trial but of companionship since missed. 
In the early conventions it was difficult to locate old 

irades, but better methods of registration of the vet- 

Bruns by name, state, and outfits soon made it easy to 
"look up" friends.* 7 To bring the men and their leaders 
together "handshakings" were arranged so that generals 

Id greet privates and all be friends. Receptions also 

Hrved to bring the privates to the generals and other 
■ I Militaries, hut the "real reunion" remained personal — 

man finding another — and the reminiscing flowed 

mi and on. 

I'lenty of entertainment was provided in the form of 
iliinces, musicals, speakings, and fireworks displays for 

II io veterans. More exclusive were the myriad of social 
Affairs set off by the reunion. These were mostly for the 
Imagined elite. The greatest number of veterans could 
ho found in groups on the streets or in their camps enter- 
In ining themselves. If they grew tired of talking, there 
Were musicians among them who had brought along their 
in r.l.ruments to pass the time. 

Around the campfire last night many experiences were 
being exchanged. On a goods box near the headquarters 
•id. was an amateur preacher holding forth. A few yards 
WW ay was another goods box, on which was mounted 
Veteran Brack, of Texas, the famous one-armed violinist, 
who skillfully holds his bow between his knees, and with 

' CV, IV, 241 (Aug., 1896). 



his left arm manipulates his fiddle, while one after another 
of the Veterans shuffled his feet to 'Chicken in the Dough 
Tray' and other famous jigs. 

. . . Both crowds eventually joined in a hearty rebel yell 
just before taps were sounded on the camp bugle. 48 

These few short days of comradeship and reminiscence 
filled the veterans with a new spirit and renewed their 
pride in being one of that rapidly diminishing band — tho 
Confederate Veterans. As they turned homeward, all 
hoped to be able to attend the next year's reunion. Tho 
hope, however, was tempered by the grim reminder that 
death would march daily among their aging ranks. 

48 UCV Minutes (17th), 31, quoting an unidentified article in th«J 
Richmond (Va.) Times-Dispatch. 

Chapter III 



^rppomattox ZJo (L-i 



1 he arduous task of economic rehabilitation 
Which the Confederate veterans had to face in 1865 might 
well have been viewed as insurmountable. Many of the 
Uterans were destitute; not many among them had more 
1 1 in n a few dollars in cash; and food and clothing for 
themselves and their families were urgently needed. As 

"Miers they had worked hard, as civilians they were to 
Work even harder. Some had never performed manual 
lulior before. The vigor with which veterans applied 
Hii-mselves to these tasks served as an example and an 
hi piration for the other citizens. Indeed, work became 

niiething of a fetish in the postwar South. Cried Henry 
Qrady: "We have fallen in love with work." 1 And in a 

i ii rit of work the so-called "New South" was born — an 
economic empire was in the making. 

For the veterans the joys of homecoming were mitigated 
I'v the economic stagnation which prevailed almost every- 
where. As Carl Schurz wrote, 

The southern soldiers, when returning from the war, did 
liot, like the northern soldiers, find a prosperous commu- 
nity which merely waited for their arrival to give them 
remunerative employment. They found, many of them, 
I heir homesteads destroyed, their farms devastated, their 
families in distress; and those that were less unfortunate 
found, at all events, an impoverished and exhausted com- 
munity which had but little to offer them. Thus a great 

1 Joel Chandler Harris (ed.), 
I New York, 1890), 88. 

Life of Henry W. Grady 



many have been thrown upon the world to shift as best 
they can. They must do something honest or dishonest, 
and must do it soon, to make a living, and their prospects 
are, at present, not very bright. 2 



No long vacation to recuperate from the war awaited tho 
returning soldiers. If able, they usually started to work 
immediately after arriving home. No time was lost in get- 
ting into the scramble for the few opportunities available. 

Ordinarily, the veterans turned to their former occu- 
pations. Since half or more of their ranks had been 
farmers, 3 the majority took to the fields again and wero 
joined by others who switched to agriculture as the quickest 
means of obtaining food and clothing. There had to be] 
numerous occupational shifts also to take care of certain 
displaced job-holders, such as military men whose profes- 
sional careers had been obliterated by the war. 

The Confederate veterans who came to the farms in 
1865 were at once faced with the inroads of deterioration 
and neglect, and sometimes with the direct ravages of war, 
Weeds and brambles grew rank and rampant on the 
untended land ; the rusted and ruined tools and implements 
of the farm were insufficient to the task of restoring tho 
soil to its usefulness. Fences and farm buildings especially 
were in a tumble-down condition. The shortage of work 
animals, seeds, and fertilizers presented further obstacles, 
And what of the extra labor that might be required? Tho 
Negro and his labor were elements of complete uncer 
tainty to the returning farmers. 4 

Perhaps with justice, returning veterans from the lowest 
element in the ante-bellum agricultural system had th 
least difficulty in resuming their farm operations. Tho 
poor-white's and small farmer's problems nowhere apt! 
proached those of the ex-planters. It was fairly easy to 


2 U. S. 39 Cong., 1 Sess., Senate Ex. Doc. 2, "Report of Carl Schurz" 
(Dec. 18, 1865), 38. 

3 Bell I. Wiley, The Life of Johnny Reb . . . (New York, 1943), 330, 

4 Robert P. Brooks, The Agrarian Revolution in Georgia, 1865-1911! 
(Madison, 1914), 10; Fleming, 713. 

itftrt again on these simple farms where there was never 
ii inch to lose, anyway. 5 

The middle-group, or yeomen farmers, coming home 

n the war had more serious problems, but they were 

|ble to overcome them by long and patient labor. With 
Ul6 frontiersman's ingenuity and capacity for hard work 
these men rebuilt their homes, replaced the worn or lost 
Implements, and then patiently restored their farms to 
Uieful productivity. 6 Probably, no better example of indi- 
vidual courage and tenacity can be found than that of the 
I Ion federate soldier who returned armless to his farm in 
Georgia. He "made his wife hitch him to a plow which 
|he drove; and they made a crop." 7 

Veteran farmers and planters who had owned slaves 
• .uiie home to a confused situation. They seemed to oppose 
the use of hired Negro labor or at least they were skeptical 
I 'I its usefulness; however, some former slaves agreed to 
Work for wages or for a share of the crop. The wage 

..I em did not prove entirely satisfactory, and the share- 
I lopping system gradually developed as the best means 
i utilizing Negro labor. 8 In addition to the labor problem, 
the large land owners found themselves land-poor and debt 
ridden. Many were forced to sell all or parts of their 
holdings to meet their obligations. In spite of these 
problems, the planting of cotton still attracted the farmers 
lit id planters as of old, and the race to raise a quick crop 
Of cotton saw ex-privates and generals rush to the soil to 
uroup their lost fortunes. 

Kor example, Captain R. E. Lee, who found himself 
Without funds to continue college, joined his brother, 
(ioneral W. H. F. Lee, and a cousin in farming in New 
Kent County, Virginia. They erected a shanty and used 

" Shields Mcllwaine, The Southern Poor-White from Lubberland to 
Tobacco Road (Norman, 1939), 81. 

" !■' rank L. Owsley, Plain Folk of the Old South (Baton Rouge, 
■48), 137-138. 

1 Myrta L. Avary, Dixie After the War . . . (New York, 1906), 163. 

I A ndrews, 322 ; Fleming, 714 ; Reid, 361 ; Oscar Zeichner, "The 
Tiunsition from Slave to Free Agricultural Labor in the Southern 
Itutes," Agricultural History, XIII, 26-30 (Jan., 1939). 






their cavalry horses for breaking the land for a corn crop. 
Working alongside their army servants as laborers, they 
finished planting on June 9, 1865. This turned out to b 
the best crop they ever made. 9 

Lieutenant General Theophilus H. Holmes of Nort 
Carolina, a professional soldier and graduate of We 
Point in 1829, retired to Fayetteville and passed the r 
mainder of his life upon a small farm "which he tille 
with his own hands, accepting the reverses of fortum 
with unmurmuring patience." 10 The redoubtable Genera 
Richard S. Ewell managed his large estate in Tennessei 
eschewing cotton growing, to concentrate on sheep, cattl 
and hog raising. Using freedmen employees successfully, 
he developed pasture and meadows for his herds an 
raised wheat and other grain crops. 11 Among other promi 
nent ex-Confederates who resumed farming or entere 
upon it for the first time after the war were Generals 
Beauregard, Bragg, and Blanchard in Louisiana; Lovell 
in South Carolina; Hardee in Georgia; and Vaughn In 
Mississippi. 12 

Many of the veterans who farmed during Reconstruc< 
tion later drifted into public office, the various professions 
industry, or commerce. Agriculture merely provided the 
means for a livelihood until better times and an expanding 
commercial life brought new opportunities. 

In trade and commerce, as well as in agriculture, Con« ( 
federate veterans attacked their postwar jobs with earnest 
ness and energy. There were many false starts and 
failures, but they kept groping about until permanent 
positions were finally secured. The individual veteran 
seemed to hold no prejudice against work of any kind so 
long as it was honest and rewarding. In 1866 a Southern 
editor pointed out that 

9 Captain Robert E. Lee, Recollections and Letters of General 
Robert E. Lee (New York, 1924), 161. 

10 Evans (ed.), I, 673-674. 

11 Gazette, May 1, 1867. 

12 Ibid., Oct. 24, 1865. 

of the most flattering signs of the times, and which 

ippears to us on every hand, is the facility with which men 
who have heretofore commanded brigades, divisions and 
'i mies can come down from their exalted rank, and assume 
the robes of the civilian, and actively commence work at 
nny thing which may 'turn up,' that offers to yield them 
mii honorable support. . . , 13 

For a time the men of high military rank held some 
|l I vantages, primarily because of the prestige attached to 
their names. This advantage passed with time, however, 
mil for each general who succeeded admirably with such 
i I mad start were many men from the ranks who pulled 
Minnselves to the top by ability and hard work. It is true 
that the leaders in war continued to lead in peace, but the 
plain soldiers also led. 14 Even modest success in civilian 
pursuits by a former general was likely to be recorded 
In the press and subsequently in history, but the common 
loldier had to attain the heights in his chosen work in 
Order to leave his mark since he had no previous individual 
• luira to fame. 

One of the most promising fields for employment during 
Reconstruction was in the railroad industry. Much work 
Was needed to repair the old lines, and an expansion 
program was soon begun. The ex-generals flocked into 
this activity, for their names were useful in executive 
positions and in fund-raising campaigns. Many of them 
■i i ho had engineering training which could be utilized in 
urveying and construction work. General William Ma- 
in me of Virginia, a railroad executive and builder before 
the war, was soon active in that field again. By 1870 he 
was president of the Atlantic, Mississippi, and Ohio Rail- 
road Company at a salary of $25,000 a year. He was also 
president at the same time of four other railroads, and 
in., total salary was about $40,000. 15 

1 i Gazette, Feb. 15, 1866. 

14 William B. Hesseltine, Confederate Leaders in the New South 
(Hilton Rouge, 1950). 
I '» Nelson M. Blake, William Mahone of Virginia . . . (Richmond, 
MUtf)), 88-89, 118-119; Courier, Nov. 25, 1870. 



General Nathan B. Forrest also engaged in railroad 
construction work in 1866 when he and a partner took a 
contract for opening and grading a section of the Memphis 
and Little Rock Railway. Replying to his welcome to] 
Little Rock, Forrest said that "he came ... to reverse his 
general practice, and build up instead of destroying rail- 
roads." 16 In 1868 he was elected president of the Memphis, 
Okolona and Selma Railroad. Forrest reportedly raised 
$140,000 in land and cash for this road in a few hours in 
Mississippi. 17 Another success as a railroad executive was 
General John C. Brown who became vice president of tho 
Texas and Pacific Railway Company in 1876. It was under 
his direction that the transcontinental line was built. Other 
veterans who held important railroad positions for a timo 
were Generals P. G. T. Beauregard, M. C. Butler, Robert 
F. Hoke, E. P. Alexander, John C. Breckinridge, and W.l 
L. Cabell. 18 

Veterans of lesser rank poured into such railroad jobs 
as station agents and line superintendents. Ex-Privato 
Alfred M. Shook came out of the war to take a job in a] 
store of the Tennessee Coal and Railroad Company in 

1866. This job was the springboard for his later indus- 
trial activities. 19 Captain Alexander A. Andrews, who 
had worked on the railroads before the war, becamo 
superintendent of the Raleigh and Gaston Railroad in 

1867, and later held that position with the Richmond and 
Danville. 20 Entering the passenger service after the war, 
ex-Private Charles A. De Saussure finally became general 
agent of the Memphis and Charleston Railroad. 21 A Westj 
Point graduate, former Brigadier General Laurence Si! 
Baker farmed after the war, then in 1874 became station 
agent at Suffolk, Virginia — a job which he held until his 
death in 1909. 22 

16 Gazette, Nov. 8, 9, 1866. 

17 Courier, Nov. 25, 1868. 

18 CV, III, 242 (Aug., 1895), 242; Hesseltine, 116-129. 
is DAB, XVII, 124-125. 

*<>Ibid., I, 282. 

21 Matties, 83. 

" DAB, I, 523-524. 



Mercantile pursuits attracted even more veterans than 
• I H I railroading. Many veterans became merchants as soon 
I hey could acquire a small stock of dry goods or gro- 
Beries. If successful, they often branched out into other 
fluids as profits accumulated. For example, former Private 
llllison A. Smyth, who was only eighteen years old when 
I lir war ended, got a job in a hardware store in Charleston, 
hi 1869 he became a partner in the firm and later used his 

■ ntiings to start a cotton mill. 23 Ex-Brigadier Jeff 
Thompson became a partner in the firm of Thompson 
ii nil Power, New Orleans grocers and commission mer- 
I hunts. In 1866 he avowed "that he is now as docile as a 
lil lien . , . , is thoroughly reconstructed, and puts up the 
lltmt article of old Burbon [sic\ in the market. . . ," 24 

A. notable success as a merchant was that of a private, 
< liurles Broadway Rouss. He had been a small merchant 
before the war in Virginia, but sold his stock and joined 
l li<' cavalry. In 1865 he returned home to work as a laborer 

■ •ii his father's farm. Seeing no hope there, he went to 

v York City. Before getting a start there with a $65 
tock, he slept on park benches and ate at free lunch 
in Mas. He prospered as he worked out new theories and 
iiii'lhods of merchandising; eventually, he built a $1,250,000 
nlnre and became one of the mercantile giants of the city. 
I lr retained, however, an interest in his native South, 
nlding indigent veterans at every opportunity. Rouss also 
la i inched the drive which resulted in the erection of the 
I Smith's Battle Abbey in Richmond, giving $100,000 to this 
project. 25 

An early postwar field which offered much to veterans 
Whs cotton buying and selling. Often cotton factors were 
hIno commission merchants on the side. New Orleans and 
New York offered the best opportunities in the trade, and 
Confederates invaded each to try for a quick rise to success. 

*" Cyclopedia of Eminent and Representative Men of the Caro- 
tat . . . (Madison, 1892), I, 468-470. 
»« Courier, May 15, 1866. 
»"CV, III, 150 (May, 1895). 





In 1866 four cotton factors in New Orleans were former 
generals: John B. Hood, A. P. Stewart, S, B. Buckner, 
and W. W. Loring. 26 

The most successful of all the cotton factors was ex\ 
Private John H. Inman of Tennessee. After three years 
in the Confederate Army he returned to his home and was 
threatened with violence by hostile neighbors. In the fall 
of 1865 he went to New York with only a few dollars, took 
a job in a cotton house, and soon became a partner. In 
1870 he organized the firm of Inman, Swann and Company 
and was also an organizer of the New York Cotton Ex- 
change. He became a world renowned figure in the cotton 
business. Called the "Southern Carpetbagger of Wall 
Street," he made a fortune and used it for the industrial 
development of the South. 27 Another cotton factor in New 
York was former Brigadier General Zachariah C. DeaH 
who left Alabama after the war to re-enter the cotton 
trade. He also became a prominent member of the New 
York Cotton Exchange. 28 

The generals and colonels were not always in high posi« 
tions, but often toiled at obscure tasks to make a living, 
This is a tribute, not an affront to them, because it reveals 
their sincerest efforts to become self-sustaining civilians 
in spite of the difficulties of readjustment. For instance,! 
General Stephen Elliot peddled fish and oysters for a 
living. Colonel Cary of Magruder's staff sold his wife's 
pies to Union soldiers at a nearby camp. 29 In New Orleans 
General W. H. King of Texas was a dry goods clerkfl 
General Joe Davis a ship chandler, and General E. Higginll 
a dray operator. General Frank Gardner was employed!! 
there as a draughtsman, while Joe Wheeler sold carriages.'"' 

Almost every store [in New Orleans] has a Colonel on 
Major. There are three distinguished Colonels extensively 

26 Courier, May 15, 1866. 

^ DAB, IX, 484; C. Van Woodward, Origins of the New South, 
1877-1913 (Baton Rouge, 1951), 123, 149. 
™DAB, V, 178. 
29 Avary, 155-156. 
3° Courier, May 15, 1866. 

engaged in the auction business. One Colonel who has 
heretofore directed his big guns with great skill and hero- 
in in some of the fiercest battles of the war, is now selling 
bale rope and bagging. Another one of Stonewall Jack- 
Oil's favorite regimental commanders is pressing cotton as 
vigorously as he pressed Gen. Banks' rear at Winchester. 31 

Hanking was a field quite often entered by veterans. 
The president of Galveston's First National Bank was 
Uoneral F. T. Nicholls, and ten of the directors were also 
i' x -Confederate officers. But this Rebel-complexioned in- 
iilution employed as cashier a former brigadier general 
In the Union army, William T. Clark. 32 

Also to Galveston went a former North Carolinian, 
Colonel Alfred H. Belo, who rode to Texas on horseback 
ifter four years in the Confederate Army. He joined the 
• mlveston News and later became its owner. He also 
founded the Dallas News. Belo, whose papers were devoted 
In the economic development of Texas, used military dis- 
Olpline in directing the work of his staff. He was one of 
the incorporators of the Associated Press, serving two 
torms as its vice president. 33 

Veterans engaged in manual labor seldom had their 
if forts reported, unless perhaps there was something 
Unique about their jobs. One such case was that of 
(iurald McDonaldson of Harrisonburg, Virginia, an ex- 
Confederate soldier who had lost his right arm in battle. 
I In made a living after the war cutting wood with his left 
nrin. He could make a hundred rails a day. This intrepid 
Woodcutter also started a charcoal business and performed 
nil the steps in making that product. 34 

Years after the end of the war one veteran recalled that 
In the rebuilding of Richmond nearly all of the laborers 
Were white men — men of good social position who became 
manual laborers. "Sitting in the sun with their trowels, 

1 (lazette, Oct. 11, 1865. 

1 "Report of Benjamin C. Truman," 7. 

1 DAB, II, 170-171. 

' Gazette, Apr. 12, 1867. 





jabbing away in awkward fashion at their new and uifl 
accustomed tasks . . . Richmond rose from her ashes, and 
soon became, in great part by their efforts, a more beauti- 
ful city than ever before." 35 

Confederate veterans who had engaged in the variouH 
professions prior to the war generally resumed those call- 
ings. There was still a need for their services, especially 
those of the doctors, teachers, and engineers. Although 
many forsook their specialties temporarily to engage in 
agriculture, trade and commerce, or even manual labor, 
they tended to drift back to their earlier pursuits with tho 
return of better times. There were many additions to tho 
professional group as large numbers of ex-planters des- 
paired of agricultural prospects and turned to law, edu- j 
cation, or the ministry. The military profession suffered 
the greatest set-back of all, and its members were forccil 
to shift to education, engineering, or other fields. 

The legal entanglements growing out of the war provided 
a fertile field for the lawyers. They also had many oppor 
tunities in acting as counsel for the expanding railroad I 
industry and later on for industrial corporations. Two 
eminently successful attorneys for the railroads were! 
Generals John C. Brown 36 and Basil Duke. 37 

Those who were members of the clergy before the war! 
usually served as chaplains in the Confederate Army, but 
some of the more zealous warriors served in a straight 
military capacity. Returning to their churches after thfl 
war, they often doubled as educators, largely because of 
the prominence of church schools and colleges. The deepj 
emotional experiences of wartime led many men to resolvfl 
to become ministers after the war. Exemplifying thifl 
movement were the actions of three brigadier generals !] 
Ellison Capers entered the Episcopal Church and later boJ 
came a bishop; 38 Clement A. Evans joined the Methodist! 

35 John S. Wise, The End of an Era (Boston, 1899), 459. 
3 S CV, III, 242 (Aug., 1895). 

37 Hesseltine, 118. See Chapter IV for further discussion of thfl 
Confederate Veteran as a lawyer-politician. 
3 *DAB, III, 483. 

ministry; 39 and Richard M. Gano served as a minister 
Of the Christian Church. 40 

Probably in no other profession could the veterans claim 
|UCh dominance as in that of education. The demand for 
tiachers was everywhere great, and faltering academies, 
ml leges, and universities needed the prestige of well known 
i 'onfederate soldiers. Competition among the institutions 
Was intense as they sought to attract students. A North 
I larolina editor, noting the influx of students to Washing- 
Inn College after General Lee's appointment, stated that, 
In order to insure the prosperity and continued existence 
Of our colleges, "they should take on a warm Southern 
tone, and identify themselves, if possible, more than ever 
With the Lost Cause, by associating with them those who 
had been prominent in our army. It had very soon begun 
In be openly said that all that Chapel Hill needed was to 
have Gen. Jo. Johnston or some other one of our Southern 
heroes, placed at its head." 41 The "military occupation" 
Of Southern colleges soon became widespread as veterans 
filled numerous administrative and teaching positions. For 
■ ■sample, Lieutenant General A. P. Stewart was a professor 
ill Cumberland University before becoming chancellor of 
the University of Mississippi from 1874 to 1886. 42 General 
M. Kirby Smith, chancellor of the University of Nashville 
from 1870 to 1875, served as professor of mathematics at 
the University of the South from 1875 to 1893. 43 Lieu- 
tenant General Stephen D. Lee was president of Mississippi 
Agricultural and Mechanical College from 1880 to 1899. 44 
After a distinguished political career, Brigadier General 
Lawrence S. Ross became the head of Texas Agricultural 
mid Mechanical College in 1890. 45 D. H. Hill, president of 
the University of Arkansas in 1881, had 440 students 

'"Ibid., VI, 196-197. 
'"Gazette, Dec. 6, 1866. 

•" Wilmington Daily Journal, July 18, 1869. 
'■DAB, XVIII, 3. 
*'CV, III, 55-56 (Feb., 1895). 
''.John K. Bettersworth, Peoples College . 
I'll.::), 47-84. 
th CV, II, 169 (June, 1894). 

(University, Ala., 





enrolled, and it was reported that "General Hill makon 
a popular executive." 46 Confederate Surgeon-Chaplain 
Charles T. Quintard opened the University of the South 
in 1868 and directed it until 1874. 47 An advertisement off 
Maryland Agricultural College informed prospective stuJ 
dents that "The President is Admiral Franklin Buchanan, 
late C. S. N., celebrated for his admirable organization of 
the Naval School at Annapolis." 48 

Veterans of all ranks served as superintendents, prill 
cipals, and teachers in the private and public schools, but 
their main influence seems to have been in the realm <>l 
higher education. 

A veteran who ranked high in the history of Southern 
education was Lieutenant Colonel J. L. M. Curry, president 
of Howard College from 1865 to 1868, and professor of 
English at Richmond College from 1868 to 1881. His mal 
contribution to education was in his capacity as agent foi' 
the Peabody Fund which he took over in 1881. As heafl 
of this organization he is credited with establishing statfl 
normal schools for each race in twelve Southern statcn, 
as well as a system of graded public schools in the citicK 
and towns of the South. 49 

Not all Confederate veterans accepted defeat and tin 
economic, political, and social aftermath in good gracOi 
Some took a gloomy view of the new order to come an 
in their brooding decided to leave the "so-called Unitoc 
States." Had large numbers of veterans joined the exodiw, 
irreparable damage would have been wreaked upon thi 
South and the nation. As it turned out, the departuiv 
of some 10,000 persons had little effect upon the shakjl 
economy of the South. 50 Like errant children after Q| 
parental thrashing, they left home in a maze of real and 
imagined complaints, but time, circumstances, and mem< 

46 Fort Smith Herald, Aug. 27, 1881. 

47 DAB, XV, 313-314. 

48 Wilmington Daily Journal, Sept. 30, 1868. 
* e DAB, IV, 605-606. 
50 Lawrence F. Hill, "The Confederate Exodus to Latin America," 

Southwestern Historical Quarterly, XXXIX, 100-115 (Oct., 1935). 

• les of home soon brought nearly all of them back. The 
1 "M federate prodigals went away with fanfare, but slipped 
back quietly to mingle and lose their identity with the 
majority of veterans who had remained at home. In- 

Ignificant as these emigrants were to the South as a 

hole, their efforts to gain a living abroad has long been 
Dl considerable interest. 

Many lands were chosen as havens of refuge by the 
mi I venturous Confederates. Great Britain, France, Cuba, 
fttmaica, Peru, Venezuela, 51 Mexico, Brazil, and Egypt 

ire among those countries invaded by this dissatisfied 
IkiikI. Among these places, three countries — Mexico, Brazil, 
"" l Egypt — stand out as important centers for Confed- 
IPate veteran activities. Mexico, being the nearest and 

st accessible, was the scene of the earliest ventures. 

w 1 1 h their armies disintegrating, some soldiers of high 
ind low estate made their way there to start a new life. 
\ il« led to this first wave were the colonists recruited in 
1H65 and 1866 to help fulfill the dreams of promoters to 

■ itablish "Old South" settlements. With an unerring 
innpensity for selecting the wrong side, the Southern 
linders of this Mexican movement shifted their allegiance 
i nun the Confederacy to Maximilian, linking the success 
of their settlements with that of his unstable regime. To 
further the Mexican colonization schemes, Maximilian 
iu i ned Matthew F. Maury imperial commissioner of 

■ ••Ionization, while J. B. Magruder was appointed chief 
dl' the Land Office. The United States Government and 
I lie press of both the North and South came out against 
lliese foreign ventures, urging the restless Confederates 
to wtay home and go to work in the job of restoration. In 
upite of this opposition, colonists in Mexico were given 
free land in amounts up to 640 acres to the heads of 
families. Other concessions were also made by Mexico in 
the form of customs, tax, and military service exemptions. 
Hettlements were attempted in Sonora, Jalisco, Chihuahua, 

r, i Aif re( j j. an( i Kathryn A. Hanna, Confederate Exiles in Vene- 
Wola, Confederate Centennial Studies, No. 15 (Tuscaloosa, 1960). 




and San Luis Potisi under the leadership of Confederal 

The most successful and largest colony was located ul 

Carlotta, in the valley of Cordova, near Vera Cruz. General 

Sterling Price of Missouri was the leading farmer in tin 

area, growing corn, tobacco, and coffee. Some of In 

prominent neighbors were Isham G. Harris, E. Kit I. 

Smith, Richard S. Ewell, Joe Shelby, and J. B. Magrudn 

Most of the settlers were former line officers and privatei 

young and without families, and lacking both capital and 

a disposition for hard work. By the spring of 1866 thl 

Carlotta settlement had a population of about 5,000, in 

eluding 175-200 North Americans. Reports sent back i 

the United States were most often enthusiastic concern inj 

the prospects for successful agriculture and in the belioJ 

that protection would be afforded by the Maximilian 

government. An estimated 2,300 additional ex-Con IV. I 

erates were scattered throughout Mexico in the othoi 

settlements as well as in engineering and construction 

projects. By late 1866, however, only one-half of thl 

Southerners who had gone to Mexico remained. Tho 

flight back to the United States was intensified in 1861 

when the liberals under Juarez triumphed and Maximili.n 

fell from power. The liberals had never been lovers m 

the Confederates and the alliance with Maximilian on I 

added to their distrust. Thus the fall of the Empero'l 

doomed to failure their colonization efforts, and all savi 

a handful of the veterans fled Mexico in 1867. Most o 

them returned directly to the United States, but a fe 

die-hards extended their exile a while longer by going to 

Cuba, Canada, or Yucatan. Chastised and fed up with liffl 

in Mexico, the veterans came to join belatedly the race for 

economic survival in the South. 52 

The movement of Confederate veterans to Brazil wal 
better organized and more successful than the Mexican 
venture. Tales of the riches of this tropic land had lontf 

52 George D. Harmon, "Confederate Migrations to Mexico," Hispank 
American Historical Review, XVII, 461-487 (Nov., 1937). 

I u circulated among Southerners. In 1865 and 1866 

IVeral exploring parties went from the South to investi- 
gate the possibilities for settlement in Brazil. Most of 
those explorers were veterans and were sent by interested 
M mips, such as the Southern Colonization Society, which 
had been formed in September, 1865 at Edgefield, South 
Carolina. Its officers were Confederate veterans and one 
>i I he two agents it sent to tour Brazil was Major Robert 
Meriwether, late of the Confederate Army. 

Other explorers were Major Lansford W. Hastings, an 
Ohloan; the Reverend Ballard S. Dunn of New Orleans 
(also a veteran) ; Colonel Charles G. Gunter of Mont- 
i-ornery, Alabama; and Major Frank McMullen of Texas. 
Mir reports of these reconnaissance parties were optimistic 
|nd concessions were obtained from the Brazilian govern- 
i in- 1 it to bring in colonists. The government agreed to 
provide temporary housing facilities and to advance money 
for transportation expenses. Implements could be brought 
in iluty free, citizenship obtained by taking an oath, and 
the government promised to build roads to connect the 
How colonies to the existing road and rail system. Land 
a runts were made to the promoters who were to sell it to 
tho colonists at prices ranging from 20^ to 42^ per acre. 

Colonies were scattered for 2,000 miles across the land 
by the settlers. The southernmost colony was located in 
|,lio Brazilian province of Parana. Colonel S. M. Swain 
Of Louisiana was the leader of the 200 Confederates who 
Were living there in 1868. Crops of cane, corn, beans and 
potatoes were raised and some of the colonists engaged 
III the manufacture of barrels. Many failed to prosper 
In this colony, however, and left for the United States 
In 1869 or 1870. Of the dozen or more settlements in 
llruzil, the one lasting the longest was located at Santa 
lliirbara in Sao Paulo Province. It later came to be called 
Villa Americana. Colonel William H. Norris and his son 
Itnbert Norris, both veterans, were leaders in the founding 
nf this colony. Some 500 American families resided in 
I bin community in the early 1870's. Cotton, sugar cane, 







corn, and vegetables were the principal crops grown, am 
the settlers also raised cattle. The main economic diffi- 
culty at Santa Barbara and also in the other settlemeni 
was the problem of transportation and finding a suitable 
market for their products. 53 A colony not so fortune li- 
as Santa Barbara was founded by Major Hastings al 
Santarem, 500 miles up the Amazon in Para proving 
The jungle and the Confederates were incompatible. Onlj 
a few succeeded at farming or the making of rum anil 
molasses. The others found themselves appealing to thi 
United States consul for aid and, with ardor cooled an 
minds disillusioned, they, like the vast majority of thosi 
from the other Brazilian colonies, returned to their nativi 
land. The big rush home began in 1869, and many of thl 
ex-fire-eaters meekly waited for free transportation 
United States warships. 54 

The Brazilian colonization schemes did not fail becaui 
of a hostile host state. The Brazilian government, in fa< i 
lived up to its pledges with the possible exception of rail 
and road improvements which had been promised. Many 
of the settlers lacked the capital necessary to establish 
themselves properly, while others shied away from wT 
grueling labor required in a primitive environment. Per« 
haps the main reason for the failure of the settlemenl 
was the lack of heart and spirit for living in a strantffl 
land. From the banks of the Amazon the United StatoK 
came into proper focus, the animus of war subsided, and 
eyes and hearts turned homeward once again. 

The Confederate veterans who journeyed to Egypt weru 
not political refugees. They simply sought economic opp<^ 
tunities abroad through the use of their military skills 
In the 1870's the Khedive of Egypt desired to build up nil 
army in order to win complete independence from thj 
Turkish Empire and to ward off the encroachments o 
various European powers. He sought American officer 

53 Ballard S. Dunn, Brazil, The Home for Southerners (New York, 
1866), 44, 47-48, Hill, 123, 132, 161-191. 

54 Lawrence F. Hill, "Confederate Exiles to Brazil," Hispani 
American Historical Review, VII, 197-201, 208 (May, 1927). 

carry out this plan because of their recent experiences 
m.I because they could, in the absence of any designs by the 
United States upon Egypt, be completely loyal to him. 

Some fifty Americans were commissioned by the Khedive 

I served in the Egyptain Army between 1870 and 1878, 

willi ranks as high as brigadier general. Over half of 
Ulna had fought for the Confederacy. William W. Loring 
ml Henry H. Sibley, both general officers of the Con- 
I- -ilc racy, were appointed brigadier generals. Among those 
i}>nated as colonel were R. E. Colston and Beverly 
li-iiiion of Virginia, A. H. Jennifer of Maryland, Samuel 
II, Lockett of Alabama, and T. J. Rhett of South Carolina. 
The American officers never took command of troops in 
I In- field, but were kept on the general staff where they 
ill meted training and attempted to reorganize the Egyptian 
a riny. Competent as the officers were, they did not change 
i In- inscrutable ways of the Egyptians nor fashion an 
Invincible "Army of Northern Egypt" overnight. 

The most important work accomplished by the Americans 
liiy in their surveys of the country, their map-making, and 
llitur numerous scientific and exploratory expeditions. 
Il, E. Colston received a gift of £1,000 from the Khedive 
fur services in exploring Central Africa and for his maps 
Mini botanical collections. Colonel Beverly Kennon, for- 
merly of the Confederate Navy, rendered conspicuous 
Ac r vice to Egypt in his surveys of the Nile, his maps of 
1 lit* empire, and in his plans for coastal defense. The 
I milder of the Mobile fortifications during the war, Colonel 
Mittnuel H. Lockett, "prepared the first accurate topo- 
Ki-nphical survey of the country between the Red Sea and 
I ho Abyssinian plateau." Colonel Alexander M. Mason, 
it n Annapolis graduate who served in the Confederate 
Navy, directed a scientific expedition which discovered the 
Hcinliki River. General Loring claimed that the American 
Officers on the Egyptain General Staff, 1871-1878, mapped 
find explored more unknown African territory than all 
lillier explorers combined. Under American leadership 








Egypt recovered the Sudan and the Egyptian flag wai 
respected as far south as the Equator. 

The Khedive's financial difficulties were responsible for 
the abrupt dismissal of all his Confederate veteran officew 
in 1878. Only the Chief-of-Staff, a Union veteran, stayod 
on until the British occupied the country in 1882. Tho 
flight from Egypt ended the last foreign adventure of tho 
Confederate veterans. They turned again to their native 
South where new forces were striving to make it thi 
"promised land." 55 

In all probability the forces of industrialism would havo 
spread from the Northeast to the South in the course <>l 
normal economic expansion, but the advent of Southern 
industrialization was hastened by the effective leadership 
of Confederate veterans. The inefficacy of a system whic 
was strong in agriculture and political action but weak In 
industry became bitterly apparent to the Confederal 
soldier, as he saw the North send forth a deluge of guiiH 
and butter, while the South's economy of slave labor and 
agriculture failed to deliver the goods to the fighting men. 
After the war Carpetbaggers gave Southerners an xm_ 
the-spot demonstration of Northern ideas and business 
methods. The economic lessons of defeat and Reconstruct 
tion taught the Southerners that the only way to rehabili- 
tate the South was to "out- Yankee the Yankees." Thl 
leadership that launched the drive toward industrialization 
and gave birth to the "New South" was recruited from 
the ranks of Confederate veterans. No doubt many of 
these same men would have eventually led in the movement, 
even had there been no war. But their experiences had 
sharpened their abilities to lead, imbued them with drivM 
and determination to succeed in business where they hud 
failed in war, and improved their capacity to organizti 
and direct in peace. 

55 Pierre Crabites, Americans in the Egyptian Army (London, 
1938), 3-5, 9, 14-17; William W. Loring, A Confederate S oldie 
Egypt (New York, 1884), 27; James M. Morgan, Recollections of 
Rebel Reefer (Boston, 1917), 272; and William B. Hesseltine and 
Hazel C. Wolf, The Blue and the Gray on the Nile (Chicago, 1961), 

The "New South," a term much abused and one tending 
In over-emphasize the growth of industry, nevertheless was 
| reality by 1900. The foundations had been laid when the 
work was hard and the outcome uncertain. Thus, to the 
early leaders of vision and daring must go much of the 
| ii (lit because their work made possible the even greater 
expansion after 1900. There had been some industrial 
iCtivity in the ante-bellum South, and in many respects 
i in- development after 1877 was an expansion of these 
niier activities. Iron and coal had been mined and iron 

i lucts made on a limited scale. Tobacco products had 

boen manufactured and cotton milling also had its start 
prior to the war. Southern railroads had expanded only 
In be wrecked by war. And immediately after the war 
I here were few men with the courage and foresight to 
lirave the unstable conditions and strive for a renewed 
M.I invigorated industry. The main push in that direction 
mine after 1877, when home rule brought stability and 
the lessening of a great nation-wide depression freed 
I he necessary capital. 

Industrial development and the leadership furnished by 
Veterans were best illustrated in the Southern industries 
Involving around coal, iron, and cotton. Southern coal 
fcnd iron development centered around Birmingham, Ala- 
lia ma — a city conceived, founded, and developed by Con- 
frilerate veterans. A pioneer in this area was ex-Private 
llonry Fairchild DeBardeleben, later called "The King of 
llio Southern Iron World." He inherited the mining and 
railroad interests of Daniel Pratt after the war and set 
out upon a program of expansion, DeBardeleben discovered 
Important deposits of coal and iron which were to become 
Ihe basis of the industrial development of Birmingham, 
lie founded the nearby town of Bessemer and built blast 
furnaces for making steel. His interests finally became 
n part of the Tennessee Coal, Iron and Railroad Company 
In 1891 and he served as a vice president of that industrial 
jflant. A contemporary of DeBardeleben in the area was 
former Private Alfred M. Shook who directed the entry 






of the Tennessee Coal and Railroad Company into tho 
iron-making business in 1881. Shook mastered the tech- 
niques of the blast furnace and pushed forward until tho 
first Southern steel was poured on Thanksgiving Day, 
1889. Another veteran who played an important part in 
the coal, iron, and steel development around Birmingham 
was John H. Inman. As he became a giant in the world- 
wide cotton trade, he put his capital to work in the South. 
Inman finally took control of the DeBardeleben interests, 
but in turn was absorbed by J. P. Morgan's advancing 
empire. 56 

Another important development in the Southern coal- 
mining industry was the opening of the Pochahontas Coal 
Fields in Virginia by Major Jed Hotchkiss who had served 
on Jackson's staff. It was through his efforts that 
capital was attracted to these coal deposits and that tho 
Norfolk and Western Railroad was extended to the field, 
The first coal was shipped out in 1883. 57 Southern coal 
and iron industries were mainly the products of local faith, 
labor and capital. Once they were going concerns, North- 
ern capital came, but the beginnings were made by Con- 
federate veterans with an accumulation of local and petty 
savings. 58 In 1880 the Southern output of pig iron wart 
397,301 tons as compared with 1,567,000 in 1893. Coal 
production in 1880 amounted to 6,048,000 tons while inj 
1893 it was 28,000,000 tons. 59 

In the important field of cotton milling the pattern <>i 
development followed that of coal and iron. The leader- 
ship in the early stages was supplied principally by Con- 
federate veterans who utilized Southern labor and capital. 
A few began operating mills before political stability wan 

56 Ethel Armes, The Story of Coal and Iron in Alabama (BirmiriK- 
ham, 1910), 238-242, 361-362, 382-384; DAB, V, 179-180; IX, 484 ; 
XVII, 124-125; Woodward, 128-129. 

_ 57 Edward W. Parker, "The Conditions in the Production of Coal 
in the South," in The South in the Building of the Nation (Rich- 
mond, 1909), VI, 180. 

58 Francis B. Simkins, The South Old and New . . . (New York, 
1947), 242. 

59 Richard H. Edmonds, Facts About the South (Baltimore, 1894), 

H'Mtored, although the main work of expansion was 
lniiuched after 1877. The cotton milling industry had its 
prophet in Captain Francis W. Dawson, an English play- 
wright who had served in the Confederate Army. He 
nl nyed after the war and finally became editor of the 
influential Charleston News and Courier in 1873. Dawson 
was the first leader in the postwar movement to "bring 
Hi" cotton mills to the cotton fields." His militancy for 
Hi is cause and also for agricultural diversification might 
It likened in fervor to that of Garrison or Greeley in their 
earlier columns for other causes. 60 One of the first 
practitioners of Dawson's preaching was Henry P. Ham- 
mi It who had operated a mill before the war in South 
Carolina. After limited service in the Confederate Army, 
ll.'iinmett sought to re-establish a mill when all others 
lliought it impossible in the face of Reconstruction un- 
| <'itainties. In 1875 he began the erection of the Piedmont 
Mills of which he was the largest stockholder and the first 
i >n\sident. The town of Piedmont sprang up, and by 1892 
the mill was one of the largest in the United States. The 
llummett firm was the pioneer in its field, utilizing locally 
Fecruited and trained labor, and giving promotions from 
I hi' ranks. Men trained by Hammett went out to other 
plants to become superintendents and foremen; thus Ham- 

It's early action helped to further the rise of cotton mills 

In the South. 61 Two hundred and forty cotton mills were 
built in the South from 1880 to 1900. In 1880 there were 
only 542,048 spindles in operation; in 1900 there were 
4,299,988. In 1870 only 94,085 bales of cotton were con- 
mimed in Southern mills, but the number had reached 
•,!:<:5,856 in 1880, 1,597,112 by 1900. 82 By 1900 Dawson's 
dream had come true, at least in part. 

Among the other fields of manufacturing activity in the 
I lost- war South, none expanded as rapidly as the tobacco 

«" DAB, V, 151-152; Broadus Mitchell, The Rise of Cotton Mills 
in the South (Baltimore, 1921), 113-114. 

111 Cyclopedia of Eminent and, Representative Men of the Caro- 
llttas . . . , I, 471-474; DAB, VIII, 200; Mitchell, 71, 109, 143. 

"■Ibid., 63; Edmonds, 25. 





industry which thrived on the increased popularity of tho 
cigarette. A leading figure in this activity was Washing- 
ton Duke who had returned to his home in North Carolina 
from the Confederate Army with only 50^ in his pocket, 
There he found his stored tobacco intact and untouched 
by the marauding armies of both sides. Gradually, ho 
and two of his sons expanded their business and in 1874 
built a factory in Durham. The firm of W. Duke Sonn 
and Company was formed and it was the first company to 
produce machine-made cigarettes on a large scale. Ex- 
pansion of the Duke interests led to the formation of tho 
American Tobacco Company in 1890. 63 

The expansion of manufacturing in the South was ac«j 
companied by a development of the railway system also, 
Southern railroad construction was financed largely by 
Northern capital, although the South did furnish most of 
the leadership. Confederates were prominent among 
leaders and promoters, just as they had been in the actual 
construction, engineering, and operating jobs. The former 
Confederate private, John H. Inman, ranked above all 
his Southern competitors in railway promotion. His widlB 
interests included the Central Railroad and Banking CoittJ 
pany of Georgia and the Richmond Terminal Company, 
Inman's empire was taken over in 1894 by J. P. Morgan 
in the creation of the Southern Railway. 6 * By 18HI) 
the South had a modern railroad system twice as great 
as that of 1869. 65 Twenty-five thousand more miles we» 
added from 1880 to 1894. A total of $900,000,000 wad 
spent during these fourteen years in building new roadH 
and improving old ones. 66 

As the Twentieth Century began, the South was firmly 
launched upon a program of industrialization and then) 
was no turning back. Agriculture still held a dominant 

position, to be true, but the blending of industry and 
Igriculture to produce a more sound and balanced economy 
Itiicl begun. That the coming of industry did not solve all 
Of the South's problems should not be held against the 
progenitors of this movement. Their program reflected an 
ICCeptance of the inevitable changes and progress that 
"■companied industry's spread across the United States. 
By 1900 there was a "New South" in that economic changes 
had begun and they were rapidly altering the complexion of 

louthern economy. A Confederate soldier, Captain Hugh 
II. Colquitt, addressing a group of veterans, quite ably 

n i nmed up the part played by the Confederates in the 
n inking of this "New South" by saying: 

Now, I state to you that the men who have done this great 
work of making a new empire out of the desolation at the 
plose of the war, are not men of the new period, but the 
miine men who fought heroically our battles, and who, when 
i 'I ice came, with fortitude withstood the fearful pressure 
nl' reconstruction. Look about you. Examine the record 
I" day, and you will find in every branch of human in- 
dustry the truth of this statement. Among the railroads, 
In the busy marts, in the factories, in the mines, in the 
professions, in the pulpits, on the farm, in the legislative 
hulls, in agricultural pursuits, in everything, everywhere, 
you will find that the foremost men are ex-Confederate 
utildiers. . • • There may be a 'New South' but the spirit 
Hint animates and guides it, the blood that pulses through 
ll:i every vein — the will that gives it force and power, is 
nl ill embodied in the same men who bared their breasts 
to the bullets. . . . 67 

G3 Joseph C. Robert, The Story of Tobacco in America (New York, 
1949), 138-142; Nannie M. Tilley, The Bright Tobacco Industry, 
1860-1929 (Chapel Hill, 1948), 555-557. 

«*DAB, IX, 184; Woodward, 123, 292. 

65 Simkins, 238. 

ee Edmonds (1894), 25. 

■' Rodgers, 135. 



Chapter IV 

^Jhe Uel 

eran in 


One of the first and most enduring gifts which 
a grateful people of the South, poor as they were, bestowed 
upon their returning veterans was a priority right to public 
office. And for thirty-five years or more the former 
Confederates used the bequest to dominate the political 
life of their region. Their only close competitors wero 
the civil officers of the Confederacy. Men who were too 
young for the war grew up to contest this political legacy, 
but their entry into political power was delayed many 
years by the veterans' prior claims upon the voters. 

Confederate veterans began to collect their dividends in 
1865 and in 1866, as the people remembered their heroeH 
at the polls. Afterwards, Reconstruction barred many ot. 
them from public office, and disfranchised even more. An 
impatient few, unwilling to wait for a resumption of homo 
rule, embraced the prevailing order and espoused thfl 
Radical cause. Their ascendancy was of brief duration, 
The majority, however, bided their time, working cojB 
stantly to upset foreign and Negro rule and to hasten their 
own return to political good fortune. Burying past diffeM 
ences temporarily, Whigs, Democrats, and a variety of 
independent factions labored together under the general 
label of "Conservatives." By 1877 they saw their efforts 
attain a complete overthrow of the Reconstruction governJ 

But with redemption, disunity began. Veterans, like other 
Southerners, became Democrats, Independents, Green- 
backers, Free Silverites, Populists, and even Republican**, 

I hey exercised their prior rights in the shifting political 
I rends, championing the cause or the party of the hour. 
Prom 1877 to 1900 the South was never as unified as 
Appeared on the surface — the term "Solid South" hid from 

lew the many threats to unity and the innumerable battles 
for political control that pitted veteran against veteran 
mid class against class. Throughout the period, however, 
most of the veterans, as well as other people, cast their 
lots with that catch-all Democratic-Conservative party 
which claimed to be the great redeemer that had wrested 
DOntrol from the Carpetbaggers and the Negroes. It did 
not in reality either redeem or restore, for its veteran 
leadership represented the rising middle class, not the old 
planter element, and their program favored the "New 
Mouth" industrial outlook and sought guidance and support 
from the industrial Northeast. The Democratic-Conserva- 
tives were often vague on the real issues and perhaps did 
Hot always govern in the best interests of the people, but 
l hey could always hark back to the corruption and ex- 
travagance, the suppression and the misery of Republican 
rule. "White supremacy and home rule" was the magic 
nlogan. It usually kept the voters in line. 

The only serious threat to one-party control arose with 
librarian discontent. At first the Agrarians, or Populists 
WH they came to be called, operated within the framework 
of the established party of the South. Finally, they came 
nut as a third party to achieve a measure of success for 

' short while. They also had strong veteran leaders who 
wmght solutions to problems that were real and pressing. 
Yet, in their quest for support they could not escape the 
onus of alliance with the Negro and the Republican. The 
color line and the memory of Republican misrule destroyed 
nr weakened all such alliances, and they were indispensable 
lo Populist success. The election of 1896 brought an end 
to the last great attempt to break the hold of the one- 
party system in the South. From then on the Democratic 
party could safely drop the "Conservative" title. Strongly 
entrenched, it was the party of the true faith in the South. 





Confederate veterans had been largely responsible for its 
dogma and its eventual triumph. 1 

After the war the veterans lost no time in placing their 
names before the voters. Those who had become veterann 
during the war by virtue of disability opened the firat 
assault. The candidates's difficulty, then as later, lay in 
presenting himself to the public with becoming franknean 
and modesty. South Carolinians seemed to have perfected 
the right technique, as the following advertisement by 
James F. Pressley suggests: 

... I am announced as a Candidate to represent our 
District in the Lower House of the next Legislature. 

I have been urged by so many of my friends to accept 
the nomination, that I deem it no part of my duty to 
refuse to respond to their call. 

I have attempted to perform my duty faithfully in tho 
service of our country from the very beginning of tho 
bloody war in which we are engaged til now, when I am 
incapacitated for service from wounds received in tho 
defense of Atlanta. 

Should you see fit to elect me one of your representatives, 
I will attempt to serve you as faithfully in the Legislativo 
Hall as I have done in the Army. 2 

Although the majority of veterans at first seemed 
skeptical of all things political, the hardier among them 
soon gave up their prejudices. They knew that a veteran 
would find great favor with the voters, many of whom 
were veterans themselves. In 1865 and 1866 veterann 
started to seek public office. Those of high military rank 
and wide reputations made the best showings at firsW 
They were generally older than the men of the ranks whfll 
were to have their day later on. Some veterans had 
established solid political reputations before the war, but 
the greatest asset was their war record. All other thing!* 
being equal, a veteran had a tremendous advantage ovoi* 

1 V. 0. Key, Jr., Southern Politics in State and Nation (New York, 
1950), passim. 

2 Courier, Sept. 24, 1864. 

n non-veteran candidate, and a considerable edge over a 
i v i 1 officer of the Confederate or wartime state govern- 
Iflents. When it came to veteran against veteran, deeds 
were held up for comparison and victory usually went to 
I In: one with the better record. Some veterans may have 
reused thinking of themselves as veterans, but the poli- 
ticians among them never lost sight of the fact. 

In a few public offices, such as that of sheriff, military 
I raining and discipline might have been a direct asset, 
but for most of the offices the candidate simply pressed 
i he fact that he was a veteran as his best possible rec- 
ninmendation. Past deeds were talked about more than 
present issues and problems. The examples that follow 
Indicate the various appeals which the veterans made to 
I he voters. 

In the November, 1865 elections in Georgia two Union 
i ne a contested for the vacant seat in the Third Con- 
1'ivssional District — Judge Benjamin H. Bigham and Hugh 
Itnchanan. The first campaigned without benefit of a 
war record. His opponent had risen to the rank of 
iirtitenant-colonel in the Confederate Army. Buchanan's 
curd outlined his military achievements and stated that 
tin had done all he could to insure the success of the cause. 
lie won. In the same election Brigadier General William 
T. Wofford was victorious in the Seventh Congressional 
District over a Unionist and an editor who were non- 
veterans. 3 

In the Texas election of 1866 Richard Coke, candidate 
for associate justice of the Supreme Court, was acclaimed 
liy the press: "He did his whole duty during our late 
Htruggle for independence — was captain of an infantry 
company and remained with it in the field to the last." 
Another candidate, Major W. M. Walton, wrote to friends 
who had placed his name in nomination for attorney 
general on the Conservative Union Party ticket: "Having 
In id aside the harness of a soldier. . . , I am yet ready to 
defend every right left to us at the ballot box, and by all 

'Andrew, 327-328. 





other legitimate means." A friend conveniently wrote a 
public letter calling attention to the service rendered by 
Colonel George W. Jones, the candidate for lieutenant 
governor of Texas in 1866: 

His course during the war is known to every officer and 
private of Walker's Division. . . . He joined the Confed- 
erate army as a private soldier. ... At Millican's Bend, 
at Mansfield, and Pleasant Hill, he was conspicuous for 
his cool and intrepid bearing. 4 

Radical rule only intensified the Southern peoplo'ii 
determination to elect their old leaders and their military 
heroes, when free to do so. A Texas editor, endorsing 
Major A. J. Dorn for state treasurer in the 1873 election 
(which overthrew the Radicals), wrote: 

Not a Missourian who served . . . under Gen. Price during 
the late family disturbance, but will be grateful to hear of 
his nomination. A brighter day is dawning for good moil 
who sacrificed position and wealth upon the altar of their 
beloved land. 5 

The campaign for restoration in South Carolina in 187il 
was one of the roughest. Veterans controlled the Demo»| 
cratic party machinery, nominated an all-veteran tickot 
at the state convention, and led the Red Shirts and "riflu 
clubs" which kept order and practiced the right amount 
of intimidation to assure victory at the polls. General 
Wade Hampton, one of the state's foremost heroes wan 
placed at the top of the ticket as the candidate for governorj 
Hampton had such stature that he never needed to speaM 
directly of his own war record. He merely lavished praifiOg 
upon the common soldiers of the state and let the memorioA 
of the audience recall his own illustrious deeds. Upon hll 
nomination Hampton declared: 

* Dallas (Tex.) Herald, May 19, June 9, 1866. 
5 Austin (Tex.) Weekly Democratic Statesman, 
(hereinafter Statesman). 

Sept. 11, 18711 

I have claimed nothing from South Carolina but a grave 
in yonder churchyard. But I have always said that if I 
i mild serve her by word or deed, her men had only to call 
nin and I would devote all my time, my energy and my 
life to her service. 

iln'ti he spoke coyly about not being the best qualified 
iniin for the job, and 

besides this [he continued], there are men in South 
i 'urolina who think I possess a disqualification of which 
I cannot divest myself, and would not if I could. I mean 
What they call my war record. That is the record of fifty- 
lliousand South Carolina soldiers, and if I am to forfeit 
that, and say that I am ashamed to have been one of them, 
till the offices in the world might perish before I would 
fcCCept them. 6 

The Democratic ticket of well-known veterans was tri- 
umphant. South Carolina swept out the Radicals and took 
her place beside the other redeemed but unrepentant 
"uuthern states. 7 

In the scramble for political offices clashes were bound 
to occur between veterans. When veteran met veteran for 
the same office, the war was re-fought vigorously. The 
wounded man usually had an advantage over the one who 
had come out unscathed; the veteran with front line service 
whs much better off than one who had served in the rear. 
Length of service too was of importance — a full four years 
Of active duty was highly regarded. The manner of enter- 
ing and departing from the service also had to be con- 
sidered: a volunteer had more prestige than a conscript; 
those remaining "until the bitter end" with a parole to show 
for it were better off than others. If the veteran candidates 
Would not delve into these facts themselves, their sup- 
porters did it for them, as the campaign warmed up. 

i * John S. Reynolds, Reconstruction in South Carolina, 1865-1877 
(Columbia, 1905), 350. 
' Courier, Aug. 19, 1876. 





The following account of two veterans seeking noml 
nation to the same office illustrates how war records were 
scrutinized and compared. The two men appeared art 
speakers before a veterans' reunion in 1884 to test their 
popularity with the voters. Of the first candidate to 
speak, it was reported that 

his words awoke no deep echo in the hearts of the hontH 
assembled there. There were no tears in the eyes of thono 
who listened. No memories of deeds of valor; no roc 
ollection of marches made, hardships endured, or dangern 
braved. Any war memory evoked by . . . [his presence! 
was a memory of the bomb proof position; the conscript, 
service ... or other place far removed from the path of 
the dangerous minnie or the deadly shrapnel. But rathor 
memories of the unmanly wranglings, of a conscript cami), 
or . . . distribution of rations to the families of the moil 
at the front. This is a poor showing in a land where tho 
memory of the devoted legions who toiled for southern 
independence are kept green and watered always by tho 
tears of the living mourners of today, for the heroic dead 
of twenty-five years since. 

Then the other candidate came before the gathering of 

[As he] addressed the assemblage of battle-scarred heroflJ 
. . . the gray-headed and bent forms of the once gallant 
grey-coated legions which he so gallantly led in victory 
and defeat, with whom he braved the hissing shot and 
shrieking shell, with whom he marched and starved, theru 
was a different scene. Men could no longer control their 
feelings and the natural man stood out through his team, 
The resounding cheers attested the deathless love of tho 
legions for the quiet, soft-voiced, blue-eyed gentleman who 
stood modestly before them, speaking in emotion-charged 
words of the long past days. . . . There was the hero of 
war, the towering patriot of peace. . . , 8 

8 Statesman, Aug. 21, 1884. 

Veterans were customarily received respectfully at all 
political gatherings, but with an influx of younger men 
mkI the rise of troublesome issues in the late 1880's they 
found themselves at times facing discourteous audiences. 
I (ieorgia editor expressed considerable indignation over 
I ho treatment given a veteran at the State Democratic 
Convention of 1888. 

General Phil. Cook [he wrote] rose to second the nomi- 
nation of Mr. Walsh, and during his remarks, referred to 
lenator Joe Brown, whereupon he was interrupted by 
hisses. The contemplation of the spectacle of a brave, 
honorable and crippled Confederate general being hissed 
In a Democratic state convention at the mention of the 
inline of Georgia's senior senator . . . will give an idea 
nl' the unbridled spirit of the majority, and the temper 
with which they met any who dissented from them. 

In the fight against the agrarian forces under Ben 
Tillman, the regular leadership of the Democratic party 
nf South Carolina in 1888 had to summon up the most 
powerful Confederate deeds and memories. Governor John 
1*. Richardson, seeking re-election, alluded in feeling terms 
to his own war experiences and the privations he suffered 
nfterward. "In that war he had lost all," he said, "but he 
whs willing to lose ten thousand times as much." At the 
Hpartanburg Political Encampment, Captain Smythe of 
Charleston introduced Senator M. C. Butler by recalling 
Unit, when in war the people had looked for a leader, 
(leneral Butler had led them: 

And after the war when life was not safe, when property 
was confiscated and Woman's virtue laughed at, and the 
people rose and demanded peace, decency and rest, it was 
M. C. Butler's voice that was raised and his intellect that 
redeemed Carolina. He came with a right to speak and 
he heard — bought by blood and sacrifice. 9 

" Augusta (Ga.) Weekly Chronicle, May 16, Aug. 8, 15, 1888. 

- '-* 





By 1890 the Tillmanites were rapidly gaining control 
Colonel John C. Haskell, a representative of the conserv« 
ative faction, attempted to speak to a pro-Tillman gathering 
at Yorkville, but the crowd kept up such a din that ho 
could not be heard. When Tillman asked for quiet, Haskell 
outlined the record of his party and tried to demonstrate 
that after 1876 the farmers had comprised a majority of 
every legislature. In reply to a question, he answered that 
"he was here, not for his own benefit, but with feeling 
as pure and unselfish as when a boy he left home to low 
his right arm on the field for South Carolina." Thnt 
statement was too much for the once- jeering mob, and they 
broke into lusty cheers. 10 

Thus, by the 1890's the appeal of the veterans to thfl 
voters was beset by many strains and stresses ; nomination* 
were no longer the exclusive domain of the veterans. Ill 
the 1894 Texas Democratic Convention, C. A. Culberson, 
a young non-veteran, vied with veteran S. W. T. Lanham 
for the gubernatorial nomination. Nominating Lanham, 
Charles Stewart praised his experience in state and nationn! 
politics, adding, 

he has a record of honorable service to his country of which 
any man may be proud, . . . Long before he had attained 
his majority he responded to his country's call, and . . , 
on the soil of Virginia he shed his blood for the maiij 
tenance of state's right and for local self-government. 

The great Democratic principles are as dear to the hearl 
of Lanham today as they were when he fought for thelfi 
maintenance. 11 

In spite of all, Lanham lost the nomination. And by tho 
end of the century the veterans slowly began to take a bacH 
seat in politics, reluctantly watching the rise of younger 
men. By 1900 the end was not far away. The "big 
campaign" was over. 

The years from 1877 to 1900 might be designated as thfl 
"Confederate Veteran Era" in Southern politics. Prior to 

10 Courier, July 4, 1890. 

11 Statesman, Aug. 17, 1894. 

IH77 the veterans were never quite secure in the enjoyment 
Of their political legacy. Many of them took office in 1865 
or 1866 only to be swept out by the military as "impedi- 

nts" to Reconstruction. At the same time those elected 

in Congress were not allowed to take their seats. Those 
who tied their political future to the Radical cause, in most 
■ ises, paid dearly for it when home rule returned. But 
One by one the wayward states were redeemed and the 
veterans came into their own. They had, with some ex- 
■vptions, been cheated out of their inheritance for twelve 

Between 1877 and 1890 veterans held the majority of 
the best offices, Federal and state. The only thing that 
kept them from holding all offices was a need for com- 
promise with the rising younger generation and the civil 
lenders of the Confederacy who had a political following. 
And in the compromises promoted by convention delegates 
the veterans had to give some of the nominations to the 
i ii ui-veteran minority in order to preserve party unity. 

During the days of their greatest power the most im- 
portant seats held by veterans were in Congress. In the 
Korty-Fifth Congress, 1877-1879, the former Confederate 
H Lutes seated sixty-seven veterans, only eighteen of whom 
hud held the rank of brigadier general or above. The 
number of general officers dropped to eleven in a dele- 
gation of seventy-seven veterans in the Forty-Ninth Con- 
gress of 1885-1887. By way of contrast, there were twenty 
privates in this Congress, and from then on the men of the 
lower ranks far outnumbered the generals and colonels. 

The hold which the veterans maintained upon the people 
of their states is quite forcefully illustrated in the com- 
position of congressional delegations at intervals down to 
I'.IOO. In the Forty-Fifth Congress, when the former Con- 
I'ederate States sent ninety-five members to the House and 
Henate, 70.5 per cent were veterans. The Forty-Ninth 
(Congress, had a delegation of 107 from these states, of 
which seventy-seven or 71.9 per cent were veterans. In 
181)5-1897 there were fifty-four veterans in a delegation 





of 112, or 48.2 per cent. After this time the decline of 
veteran members was rather rapid. In 1901 only 27.8 per 
cent of the Southern delegation was veteran, or thirty-two 
out of 115. Rebel congressional strength was augmented 
in this era by other Confederate veteran members from 
Kentucky, Missouri, West Virginia, and Maryland. The 
state delegations varied from Congress to Congress in thit 
number of veterans, but Alabama, Georgia, and Mississippi 
consistently returned large veteran delegations as late an 
1900. Confederate veterans finally passed from the Con- 
gress with the death of Major Charles M. Stedman, o1 
North Carolina, in 1930. 12 

In the other two branches of the Federal Government, 
where appointment and not elections was the rule, Confed- 
erate veterans did not fare so well. Executive or judicial 
positions went to them in spite of the fact that they went 
Confederates, not because of it. Six veterans became 
members of the Cabinet, and a seventh served a brief time 
in an ad interim appointment. Captain Amos T. Acker- 
man, from Georgia, served as attorney general from 1870- 
1871. Lieutenant-Colonel David M. Key, of Tennessee, wart 
postmaster general, 1877-1880. Three Confederate vet- 
erans were given places in Cleveland's Cabinet. Colonel 
L. Q. C. Lamar of Mississippi was his secretary of th<i 
interior from 1885 to 1888, and Colonel Hilary A. Herbert 
of Alabama his secretary of the navy from 1893 to 1897. 
Cleveland's postmaster general from 1895 to 1897 wart 
William L. Wilson, a former Confederate private from 
West Virginia. Lieutenant Luke E. Wright, who bolteii 
the Democratic party when Bryan was nominated, becam. 
Theodore Roosevelt's secretary of war in July, 1908 run I 
served until March, 1909. Wright had previously distin- 
guished himself as governor general of the Philippine In- 
lands and as the first United States ambassador to Japan. 1 ' 

12 Biographical Directory of the American Congress, 1774.-191)9 
(Washington, 1950), passim; New York Times, Sept. 28, 1930. 

13 DAB, XX, 561; Robert C. Wood (comp.), Confederate Hand-Booh 
(New Orleans, 1900), 77. 

Three Confederate veterans were honored with appoint- 
ments to the United States Supreme Court. The first was 
L. Q. C. Lamar, nominated by President Cleveland on 
December 6, 1887 and after much "bloody shirt" oratory 
In the Senate, confirmed by a vote of thirty-two to twenty- 
right. Cleveland appointed Senator Edward Douglass 
White of Louisiana to the Supreme Court in 1894 and the 
Senate confirmed him the same day. White had been a 
private in the Confederate Army. After serving seventeen 
jTears as an associate justice, he was appointed chief 
Mistice by President Taft in 1910. During the next ten 
years White "presided over the Court with dignity, fair- 
ness and dispatch." The third Confederate veteran to 
nerve on the Supreme Court was Horace H. Lurton of 
Tennessee. Lurton, a former sergeant major, was ap- 
pointed by President Taft in 1909. He served until his 
death in 1914." 

Lesser appointive positions were held by Confederate 
Veterans, of course. They became United States marshals, 
district attorneys, and postmasters in great numbers. They 
erved as members of the Civil Service Commission, the 
National Park Commission, and in other government 
lnireau positions. Quite a number acted as ambassadors, 
ministers, and consuls in the diplomatic service. 

Confederate veterans held commanding positions in the 
I'.uvernments of the ex-Confederate States, from governor- 
|hip to justice of the peace. Their pre-eminence in state 
ixecutive and legislative offices illustrates the extent to 
which they were able to capitalize upon their political 

In the thirty-four years following 1873 in Texas, Con- 
federate veterans held the governorship for twenty-five 
pears. Seven of the nine men were veterans. 15 The inter- 
lude from 1891 to 1899, in which non-veterans were 
governors, evidenced a typical development throughout the 

N Tom W. Campbell, Four Score Forgotten Men . . , (Little Eock, 
1050), 268-281, 298-301, 319-321. 

16 Rupert Richardson, Texas the Lone Star State (New York, 1943), 
M3; Wood (comp.), 90. 




South: the younger men of politics were coming- into their 
own. Issues for a change outshone the candidates. Thi 
veterans relinquished their solid grip upon the offices to 
the youngsters who talked of action now instead of in thfl 
war. With a return to conservatism in the late 1890'; 
there was a brief return to veteran rule in the state house:,, 
but generally by 1900 the veterans were getting too old and 
were being forced to take less important positions. Besidoi 
Texas, two other states furnish striking examples of vel 
eran rule under ex-Confederate governors. In Mississippi 
only three men occupied the governor's chair from 1870 
to 1901: Colonel John M. Stone, Brigadier-General Robeii 
Lowry, and Captain Anselm J. McLaurin. Virginia's strin 
of veteran governors went unbroken from 1874 to 1901 

The holders of the other state executive offices through 
out the period were likewise men who had served thi 
Confederacy. For example, in North Carolina in 1870 
Captain Thomas J. Jarvis was governor; Colonel William 
L. Saunders, secretary of state; Colonel Thomas S. Ken;in, 
attorney general; Surgeon Samuel L. Love, state audit m 
and Private John C. Scarborough, superintendent of puhh- 
instruction. The only important position held by a non 
veteran was the office of state treasurer, where the in 
cumbent was a long-time public servant who had boon 
too old for war service. 17 

Similarly, veterans were firmly entrenched in the exed 
utive offices of Texas in 1885. In veteran Governor John 
Ireland's administration were Private Joseph W. BaincH, 
secretary of state; Colonel Francis R. Lubbock, stain 
treasurer; Captain W. J. Swain, comptroller; Private John 
D. Templeton, attorney general; and a host of lessflH 
officials, both elective and appointive. 18 

, 16 Ibid., 90; William W. White, "Mississippi Confederate Veter.-u, 

i^o /tH C 9 f l lc ?' 1875 - 190( V' Journal of Mississippi History, XX, 
148 (July, 1958). 

17 J. S. Tomlinson, Tar Heel Sketch Book . . 

is e. H. Loughery, Personnel of the Texas State Government fof 
1885 (Austin, n.d.), 66-73. 

Toward the end of the veteran era the greatest number 
nf veterans in executive offices were to be found in the 
nppointive positions. In Georgia in 1902 under the ad- 
ministration of a non-veteran governor, the only important 
elective offices held by veterans were those of comptroller- 
rrneral and state treasurer. Lieutenant William A. Wright 
1 1, id served in the former position since 1880, and Captain 
Robert E. Park had served as treasurer since 1900. Vet- 
erans held the appointive positions of adjutant general, 
Itate librarian, railroad commissioner, and commissioner 
<>{' pensions. 19 

The legislatures of the Southern states also came under 
I he influence of Confederate veterans. Yet the veterans 
did well to hold 50 per cent of the seats in any legislature 
even at the height of their popularity. They had about 
I he same success in winning legislative seats as they had 
In holding county and local offices. The smaller the 
. nnstituency, the easier it was for a non-veteran to win 
public office. In a county or a small district election 
i he veteran had to face issues more squarely, and many 
petty factors entered into a campaign. It was here that 
i he political "in-fighting" took place and being a veteran 
Was not always enough. For example, a non-veteran 
opponent might come from a better-known family or per- 
haps his father or brother had served in the war. Con- 
aidering how much personality and other such factors 
were held up for public scrutiny in local politics, it is 
perhaps surprising that the veterans came out as well as 
i hey did in the legislative races. In North Carolina in 
IK79, when the executive positions were overwhelmingly 
dominated by veterans, only forty-eight out of 118 members 
Of the House of Representatives were veterans. And in 
the Senate, twenty-six of forty-nine seats were held by 
| veterans. The speaker of the House and the president of 
the Senate were veterans, which is an indication of the 
(Raleigh, 1871)), 

"'Thomas W. Loyless, Georgia's Public Men, 1902-1904- (Atlanta, 
n.<l.), 3-5, 12-62. 

« » Tomlinson, 5-136. 





prestige and power of the veteran delegation. 20 In the 
second administration of Governor Ireland of Texas, 1885- 
1887, forty-nine veterans held seats in a House of 10G 
members, and eleven of the thirty-one senators were vet- 
erans. 21 The veterans managed to hold on to some legislativo 
seats for a long time after their period of greatest power. 
Four veterans were among the thirty-five members of thu 
Alabama Senate in 1903, while twenty-nine of the 105 
House members were veterans. 22 At the same time in tin- 
Georgia legislature veterans occupied five of twenty-two 
places in the Senate, but only ten of the 110 seats in 
the House. 23 

The veteran vote was an important factor in Southern 
politics from the restoration to the end of the century. In 
the early years veterans accounted for a sizeable bloc of 
the total votes. Later, as they became fewer in number,!, 
they increased their prestige and influence by means <»l 
organizations and by keeping the deeds of Confederates* 
before the public. Their influence upon their families and 
a wide circle of admirers continued to grow. They con- 
stituted a conscious group which seemed to be of one mind 
when it came to voting. In fact, such unity was never » 
reality; but the vote seekers, veteran and non-veteran, 
appealed to veterans as a group. Nothing was too good to 
promise the old soldiers. 

The veterans did in time come to have fairly common 
objectives concerning such things as pensions, soldiers' 
homes, and other benefits. Their organizations, partic- 
ularly the United Confederate Veterans, made possible fl 
widespread educational program which helped solidify 
their aims. Through these organizations the veteran. 
brought pressure to bear upon office seekers and offico 
holders in order to achieve their goals. 

Veteran organizations, and especially the UCV, wero 
strictly non-political — according to their definition of poli- 

21 Loughery, 4-61, 66-97. 

22 Thomas M. Owen (ed.), Alabama Official and Statistical Rath 
ister, 1903 (Montgomery, 1903), 36-85. 

23 Loyless, 63-200. 



lies. The politics which they banned were formal en- 
dorsements of particular candidates by their organization, 
Or the use of veteran meetings for "purely" political 
itpceches. To the veterans such things as pensions, relief, 
n nd soldiers' homes were non-political. Even the non- 
voteran politicians treated these issues with great respect, 
i requent lip service, and usually with action. 

Candidates sought to win the support of veterans by 
nl.tending their reunions and outings and by mingling with 
ilium upon every possible occasion. The veteran candidate 
Intel the advantage of membership in the UCV or similar 
organizations and could attend all official and social 
i unctions in his constituency. Had the veterans remained 
In their organizational shells they would have been sought 
Out, but actually they took their political projects and laid 
1 1 u^m before candidates, before legislatures and commis- 
llons, and even before the United States Congress. Egged 
On by all office seekers and holders who maintained that 
every effort must be made to care for these old soldiers, the 
veterans became militant in their political demands and 
In exerting political pressure. 

The drive for state supported pensions and soldiers' 
homes required considerable political activity by the vet- 
erans who resorted to pressure tactics to secure their aims. 
For example, in Tennessee the state association took the 
lead in improving the pension system. In 1890 the asso- 
ciation resolved 

that our Representatives and Senators of the next General 
Assembly of Tennessee be requested to amend the Tennessee 
I 'onfederate pension laws so as to allow a pension of not 
less than $8.00 per month to all Tennessee Confederate 
noldiers who are unable to support themselves and families 
by reason of the loss of one or both legs or arms, lost in 
actual Confederate military service. . . . 

General W. H. Jackson, commander, told the group in 1894 
that "the Confederates ruled the State ; that their wish was 
l.he will of the people, and that they should ask for what 






they needed to supply the wants of Tennessee's disabled 
heroes. . . ." 

Confronted with a request from the Tennessee Pension 
Board and the Soldier's Home for more funds in 1896, th« 
association called for concerted action by its bivouacs and 
individual members. All members were urged to interview 
the candidates for the legislature in their districts and to 
obtain from them positive assurances that, if elected, they 
would vote for adequate financial support for those char- 
ities. The association also urged its comrades to contact 
their representatives after the election to "secure and 
confirm their interest" in these projects. In this con- 
nection, the question of political lobbying arose, but General 
Jackson and other leaders dispensed with this objection by 
saying that Tennessee owed a debt to these indigent soldier* 
and that "we should not be backward in demanding what 
we wanted." 2 * 

Similar pressure by veterans was a common thing in all 
the ex-Confederate States. For instance, the commander 
of the Virginia Department declared before the 1900 meet- 
ing that members should "urge upon your representative: 
in the General Assembly that largely increased appropria- 
tions be made to it [the soldiers' home] , and follow up your 
work by active petitions to that body in its behalf." 25 

In championing other measures deemed beneficial to 
veterans, organizations resorted to the outright preparation 
of bills, but most often used resolutions to command tho 
attention of politicians. In 1895 the History Committee 
of the Tennessee association sought to implement a resolu- 
tion of the UCV convention which urged its units to rec- 
ommend to their respective legislatures that a chair of 
American history be set up in each state university. A 
bill prepared by the Tennessee committee outlining this 

24 Tennessee Minutes (3rd), 17; ibid. (7th), 21 

25 In the 1904 Texas State Democratic Convention, General W. L, i 
Cabell, commander of the Trans-Mississippi Department of the UCV, 
made an appeal for the delegates to declare for more adequato 
provision for veterans through the Confederate Home and pension* 
(Dallas News, Aug. 4, 1903). 

|iliui was introduced on behalf of the veterans. The corn- 
mil tee also presented the matter to the Tennessee House 
ind Senate. Out of this action a law was passed which 
put the plan into effect at Peabody Normal College. 26 

The general UCV convention of 1900 passed resolutions 
Urging the Southern congressmen to use their influence and 
In vote for a measure which would establish a National 
Military Park at Franklin, Tennessee. This convention 
ftlso urged support for a bill before the Congress to increase 
the pensions for survivors of the Mexican War and their 
widows. 27 Funds for monuments were often requested 
from the state legislatures. The 1906 convention of the 
Missouri Division resolved "that we respectfully and sin- 
cerely urge the next General Assembly to make a suitable 
a i tpropriation for the erection of a monument to the Con- 
1 1 'derate soldiers of Missouri who died in the battle of 
Vicksburg. 28 

One of the most oft-repeated and forlorn resolutions 
passed by the UCV sought to return to the states the cotton 
l.i ix collected after the war by the Federal government. 
In 1912 this plan was still being placed before the Congress : 

. . . the United Confederate Veterans here in Reunion are 
of opinion that, in justice to the States from which the so- 
r.-dled cotton tax was collected, the Congress of the United 
States shall return the same amount to the States from 
which it was collected. 29 

Needless to say, this fond hope never materialized. The 
urgument always ran that Confederate veterans would not 
accept pensions or soldiers' homes from the United States 
(iovernment, but they would accept payments from cotton 
tax funds because this money rightfully belonged to the 
Southern states. 
It is surprising that a group of veterans with so much 

« Tennessee Minutes (8th), 29-30. 
f Ibid. (10th), 80. 
2S Missouri Proceedings (10th), 44. 
™ UCV Minutes (22nd), 158. 



political power asked for so little from their state govern- 
ments. Considerable evidence is available to explain their 
cautious and conservative attitude. They asked for what 
was considered necessary to care for those in need, but 
otherwise they viewed themselves, not only as veterans 
but also as common citizens and taxpayers. They tempered 
their demands with consideration of the welfare of all 
the people. 

Chapter V 

rellowdhitp ^Mmona i/efr 



Confederate veterans, in binding themselves to- 
r.other in various associations, professed a wide variety of 
motives for their organization. None was pursued with 
mich zest as the commonly expressed desire to preserve 
I lie comradeship of war and to keep alive the recollections 
of that struggle. Inasmuch as these functions were of a 
public nature, they influenced profoundly the rising gener- 
ations. Through them the mind of the South was indelibly 
: lamped with a picture of the Confederate soldier along 
with the cause and the principles for which he stood. 

Socially, life had been drab in the South during the 
war but afterwards, in spite of the economic and political 
difficulties, social activities boomed. Poverty and sadness 
could not prevail against the party, the dance, and the 
picnic. Spontaneous and accidental comradeship soon gave 
way to organized and planned events, all designed to bring 

I lie veterans together. 

The basic occasion which promoted fellowship among 
veterans was the monthly camp, post, or bivouac meeting 
of early organizations or the later UCV. Lee's birthday, 
u battle anniversary, the presence of a distinguished 
visitor, or some other equally auspicious occasion brought 
out the women's auxiliaries in best attire and loaded with 
.pecial culinary creations. Local camp meetings lasted 
from a day to a week during the summer months, and 

II f forded the veteran as well as his family a chance to 
enjoy a vacation away from home. One such four-day 
reunion and encampment was held at Long's Lake near 





Dallas, Texas in August, 1884 with an estimated 20,0011 
people in attendance. Speeches, band music, dancing, and 
talking were the order of the day. 1 

The sites chosen for encampments varied according In 
local customs and available facilities. The George T. Ward 
Camp, UCV, met annually at Shell Island on the Gulf of 
Mexico. The W. L. Moody Camp held its 1900 reunion in 
the park at Fairfield, Texas. 2 

Banquets, usually held in conjunction with camp mod 
ings, were one form of entertainment. Referred to an 
"Love Feasts," such banquets were noted for eloquent 
toasts, lengthy responses, and inspired orations on the war, 
The right mixture of good food, tobacco, and a variety of 
alcoholic beverages created the proper atmosphere for a 
successful "feast," and stimulated the flow of reminiscenccH 
of which the veterans were so fond. Another feature wan 
a re-enactment of a wartime campfire, such as that hold 
at Pulaski, Virginia in August, 1897. Veterans and their 
wives and children gathered around the fires for tin 
evening meal. Afterwards, the ladies and children retired, 
leaving the old soldiers to pass the hours with song and 

Another popular social event was the outdoor picnic 
or barbecue, the pattern of which changed little with thfl 
passing years. For example, the reunion and picnic held 
by the Butler Guards of Greenville, South Carolina on 
July 21, 1876 differed little from a UCV picnic of thu 
1890's. Escorted by veterans of Brook's Troop, the Cornot 
Band, and numerous citizens, the men marched to McBee 
Spring about two miles from town for the big dinner, hi 
the absence of a formal program, the veterans split in In 
small groups about the grounds. "Some discussed the war, 
with its dangers and hardships, but memory threw a 
roseate mantle over past events; and the scenes of tho 
greatest peril, or the privations of a most distressing 

march, were laughingly discussed. . . ." Political candi- 
dates were present in abundance, many of them being 
Veterans — to be seen there was sufficient unto the day. 
I »j mcing and reminiscing, albeit at a somewhat slackened 
puce, continued until late afternoon. 3 

At times the veterans' organizations combined social and 
I heritable objectives. Money was needed for relief pur- 
poses, for monuments, and for erecting and operating 
lOldiers' homes. By holding public entertainments money 
mi ild be raised, and the veterans and the people alike could 
enjoy themselves. Among these commercial ventures, the 
veterans' fair and the sham battle were excellent fund 

One of the earliest fairs was held in May, 1869 by the 
Washington Light Infantry Charitable Association in 
('harleston's Hibernian Hall. While the veterans took 
I urns acting as "managers," the ladies tended their gaily 
decorated booths. Home-made cakes as well as articles 
donated by local merchants were raffled at each session. 
Additional revenue came from the sale of tickets. Exhibits 
reminiscent of the war were scattered about the hall. The 
Cake stand displayed "a cross made of the grass from the 
Krave of the lamented 'Stonewall' Jackson," while the booth 
which sold children's clothing exhibited a minature marble 
monument bearing the inscription: "Our Fallen Heroes." 
Kesides being a week-long social affair, this event raised 
money that by other means was not easy to get in Charles- 
Ion at the time. 4 

In Atlanta a veterans' fair ran for two weeks in 
December, 1888. The numerous booths were named for 
famous Confederate generals and scenes appropriate for 
lach Confederate state were given daily in the adjacent 
Veteran's Theatre. The Fulton County organization netted 
$3,612.73 from this event. 5 

A sure way to raise money was to refight the great war 

1 Dallas Daily Herald, Aug. 7-10, 1884. 

2 CV, II, 203 (July, 1894) ; V, 454 (Sept., 1897) ; VIII, 391 (Sept., 

» Courier, July 26, 1876. 
4 Ibid., May 4, 5, 6, 1869. 
n Rodgers, 16-17, 149. 



in sham battles, veterans against state militia, the National 
Guard, or some other force. Although limited to the 
terrain visible from the grandstand, the maneuvers wero 
executed with realism, detailed planning, and unbounded 
ardor and daring. Of course, it was a foregone conclusion 
that the veterans would always win, but the veterans 
considered such an agreement superfluous — their triumpli 
was inevitable. 

One of the hardest fought and most profitable of tho 
sham battles took place in New Orleans on September 15- 

16, 1883. More than $7,000 was netted for the two-day 
encounter which was witnessed by more than 7,000 spec- 
tators. 6 

Less realistic, but perhaps more timely, was the sham 
battle at the Piedmont Exposition of 1889 in Atlanta, 
fought between Fulton County veterans and a mesalliance- 
of Indians and cowboys before a crowded grandstand. The 
veterans — destined to be winners by pre-arrangement— 
attacked in "true veteran style," and the enemy was re- 
pulsed after a strong charge. Dr. Amos Fox, the color 
bearer, had a lengthy scuffle with an unruly Indian who 
tried to wrest the flag from the former Confederate. After 
the staff was broken and the Stars and Bars torn, Dr. Fox 
cooly told the Indian that, if he did not let go of the flay, 
"he would kill him sure enough." With that the Indian 
took flight and the doctor came out of the battle with four 
pistols taken on the field. 7 

While the veterans were primarily interested in fellow- 
ship of a lighthearted variety, they also enjoyed meeting 
occasionally in solemn public ceremonies. The dedication 
of innumerable statues and monuments throughout tho 
South and the widespread annual observances of Memorial 
Day were the chief events of this nature. Undoubtedly, 
the sober reflection evoked by such ceremonies served to 
strengthen the ties of friendship and to renew the sense of 
unity among the aging Confederates. 

S SHSP, XX, 157 (1892); New Orleans Times-Democrat, Sept. lfl.j 

17, 1883. 7 Rodgers, 23-24. 



The early dedicatory programs of the Reconstruction 
Ira had an air of defiance about them. As an example, the 
dedication of the monument to the dead of the Washington 
Light Infantry in Charleston, June 16, 1870, was also used 
bo show contempt for the sorry state of affairs in the 
South. A crowd of 6,000 jammed rainswept Magnolia 
Cemetery to witness the simple ceremony and to hear the 
address of General Wade Hampton. 8 

As time went by, however, dedications took on a patriotic 
air. On June 26, 1907 members of Terry's Texas Rangers 
participated in the dedication of the monument they had 
erected to the memory of their organization in Austin. 
forming at the hotel, the veterans rode to the monument 
Hanked by an honor guard of the First Texas Cavalry 
whose Captain Rufus King delivered the monument to the 
;itate. Five thousand spectators witnessed the ceremonies, 
.ludge J. H. Robertson paid eloquent tribute to the Confed- 
eracy and then spoke boastfully of "Texas at the Front." 
Recovering momentarily from their nostalgia, the veterans 
Htood at attention as the "Star Spangled Banner" was 
played. 9 

The grand climax to four decades of monument dedi- 
cations came in 1907 when the Richmond monument to 
Jefferson Davis was unveiled. Since the UCV was holding 
Its annual reunion in the city at the time, there were 
probably more Confederates at this ceremony than at any 
other of its kind. Davis, the martyr, reaped tributes from 
veteran and non-veteran alike. Prayer, songs, and a half 
dozen speakers preceded the orator for the program — 
General Clement A. Evans — who reviewed the President's 
career and pleaded for his acceptance as a great American 
by a united nation. 10 

Memorial Day occupied an important place on the vet- 
erans' calendar. This ceremony began in the South in 1866 
with the decoration of the graves of the Confederate dead 

K Courier, June 17, 1870. 

» Statesman, June 27, 1907. 

10 UCV Minutes (17th), 117-156. 



in a few localities. The task, at first largely carried out by 
women, grew in importance as the veterans took an active 
part. Although the day set aside to remember and to honor 
the dead varied from state to state, April 26 came to bo 
widely accepted as Southern Memorial Day. 11 From simple 
origins, Memorial Day gradually expanded into a holiday 
crowded with speeches, parades, banquets, and other events, 
But to its simple beginning it returned as the veterans 
withered and as memories of the living faded. 

Memorial Day, 1890, in Atlanta found the local veteran 
poised for a busy and exciting time. Following the laying 
of the cornerstone of the Georgia Confederate Home, thu 
veterans led a parade up Marietta Street. As they sighted 
the carriage carrying the two ranking generals present- 
Joseph E. Johnston and E. Kirby Smith — the parade came 
to a halt. Wild with joy and enthusiasm, the veterans 
unhitched the horses and drew the carriage themselves, 
After the usual speakings, the crowd headed for the cenN 
etery where the procession ended at the Confederate monu« 
ment overlooking the graves of the soldiers buried there. 
A thirteen-gun salute was fired for the dead, followed 
by a twenty-one-gun salute to Johnston, the ranking ex« 
Confederate general. The day's activities were closed by 
a reception at Major Mimm's residence to which all vet- 
erans had been invited. Here the famous generals wero 
greeted again, and a delightful evening followed as vet« 
erans fraternized in the reflected glow of their respects I 
leaders. 12 

Seventeen years later the Memorial Day ceremonies had 
receded in scope and grandeur, not only in Atlanta, but all 
over the South. In Austin, Texas, where large crowds hud 
observed the day in the 1890's, only sixty people, mostly 
veterans of John B. Hood Camp and the United Daughter 
of the Confederacy, gathered for the program in 1907, 



The ceremony opened with prayer, and then there were 
I wo short speeches concerning the great sacrifices made 
by the Confederate dead. In conclusion wreaths and Con- 
Irderate flags were placed on the graves in both the state 
and city cemeteries. 13 

11 A History of the Origin of Memorial Day (Columbus, 1898), 0-7, 
17-25; Our Confederate Dead (Richmond, 1916), 7-8; Mississippi 
Proceedings (2nd), 4. 

12 Rodgers, 177-192. 

^Statesman, Apr. 27, 1907. 



Chapter VI 

dSread and «3/i 


1 he outlook for wounded, sick, or maimed Con- 
federate veterans in the decade after the war was 
As General Samuel McGowan stated in 1875, 

[The veteran's] condition is that of orphanage. The gov 
ernment for which he struggled cannot honor and rew:tni 
with pensions the survivors, nor gather up the scatter. ,i 
dead into imposing cemeteries, and erect over them splendid 
monuments to their heroism. . . . The toils and suffering 
of the Confederate soldiers were great, but they h;i\. 
none of the rewards usually enjoyed by a patriotic citizon 
soldiery. . . .* 

From these needs evolved a program embracing a pfl 
culiar combination of gratuities. Originating with thtt 
veterans, it gained the support of the people at large and 
finally was absorbed by the Southern state governments 
Unfortunately, however, in the early postwar years thtt 
people looked more to the dead than to the living. In their 
preoccupation with the past they were determined first to 
glorify the dead and the cause for which they had fallen, 
It was apparently easier to harvest sympathy and monc\ 
for a towering memorial to things past than for the needn 
of the living. Thus, the common lament of the unfortunalo 
old soldiers : "We asked for bread and they gave us a stone." 

The veteran-led charitable programs of relief payments 
soldiers' homes, funeral expenses, and other charities wera 
small when contrasted to the needs, but they prevented 

1 Courier, July 24, 1875. 

much suffering and hardship. Their memorial projects, 
nl Though perhaps over emphasized at the expense of chari- 
iirs, helped to establish in the mind of the South the 
honorable part which the Confederates had played in the Veterans themselves, in effect, prepared the way 
for their states to step in and take over a system of chari- 
Inble and memorial projects and to continue relief for their 
Indigent comrades. 

The first pressing task facing veterans' organizations 
Was the relief of veterans or the families of the deceased. 
This continued to be a problem from 1865 to the death of 
HI! the survivors. In general terms, the organizations 
I'htimed to be interested in charitable objectives. The 
evidence seems to indicate that they took this work seri- 
ously and that their efforts brought direct aid in the form 
iif food, money, and clothing to many who were in dire need. 

One of the first organizations of this sort was the 
Washington Light Infantry Charitable Association. Vow- 
ing that the memory of the honored dead was sacred, the 
imrvivors extended charity to their widows and orphans 
a nd to needy comrades. 2 Over $20,000 was distributed 
from that charity fund in the years 1865-1900. 3 In Rich- 
mond, R. E. Lee Camp No. 1 also achieved a notable record 
for charitable work. From the founding of the camp in 
1883 to 1900, its Relief Committee spent some $20,000 on 
widows and orphans.* The Grand Camp Confederate Vet- 
erans, Department of Virginia, to which Lee Camp be- 
longed, spent $2,125 on 685 comrades in 1899. 5 

By means of a bazaar the Maryland Confederate Society 
raised over $30,000 in 1885 and invested the money in an 
annuity fund terminating in twenty-five years. In 1892 
l.he fund produced an income of $2,700 which was distri- 
huted in cash payments to 202 indigent veterans. 6 Other 
veteran groups practiced charity on a smaller scale, but in 

> Ibid., June 17, 1870. 

»CV, VIII, 76 (Feb., 1900). 

* Ibid., IV, 28 (Jan., 1896) . 

Virginia Proceedings (13th), 22-23. 

»CV, I, 39 (Feb., 1893). 





the same spirit. Charleston's Camp A. Burnett Rhett No. 
757, UCV, reported that from 1896 to 1899 it spent $151.51 
on widows, $95 on sick members, $15 for other charitioH, 
and had $1,300 in the bank as of 1899. 7 To combat thfl 
source of many indigent veterans' troubles — unemployment 
— the Frank Cheatham Bivouac of Nashville appointed ■ 
special committee to seek jobs for those out of work. 8 

Veteran charity work fell almost exclusively into tin 
domain of the local camps, posts, or bivouacs. The larger 
organizations, such as the Grand Camp Confederate Vet- 
erans or the United Confederate Veterans, could resolv 
advise, appoint committees, and direct, but the actual 
relief benefits were most often procured and distributed 
locally. About the only way the UCV ever participated 
directly in charitable work was to distribute circular 
letters, asking for donations to particular causes or person 
For example, the headquarters office sent a letter to .ill 
camps in 1893, soliciting contributions for the destituie 
family of the late General E. Kirby Smith. Twenty camjm 
responded with a total of $433.75 which was turned over to 
the family. The main effectiveness of the UCV head 
quarters and the various state divisions lay in their in 
fluence and ability to exert political pressure to seam 
state benefits for veterans. In this way, the burden ol 
charity, which would have become unbearable on the local 
camps as the age of the veterans increased, was gradually 
shifted to the state governments. 

The problem of caring for the Confederate dead camo 
under the memorial activities of veterans' organizationH, 
Funerals required both charity and memorial exercises 
In this realm one of the most pressing problems at tho 
end of the war was the burial of the Confederate dead 
still lying on the battlefields in both the North and tho 
South, or the reinterment of those buried in unsuitable 
graves. These were long and slow processes, hampered 

' Ibid., VII, 409-410 (Sept., 1899). 
8 Ibid., Ill, 209 (July, 1895). 
a UCV Minutes (6th), 151-152. 

by lack of funds more than by a lack of interest. In 1870 
I lie Survivor's Association of Richmond opened a drive for 
money to bury the dead then lying on the field of Gettys- 
burg. The Charleston Survivor's Association made a do- 
nation and also solicited funds from the public. 10 Through 
these efforts the Gettysburg dead from South Carolina 
were returned to Charleston in 1871 and buried with 
appropriate ceremony. 11 

With the aid of an appropriation from the state, the 
Maryland Confederate Society gathered the remains from 
I'etersburg and Gettysburg of Marylanders who had fallen 
in the Confederate service and reburied them in Loudon 
Turk Cemetery, Baltimore, where a central monument was 
erected. About $10,000 was spent on this project. 12 

The locating and marking of graves was another task 
confronting veteran and allied organizations. A notable 
early effort in this work was carried out by John C. 
Underwood, an early commanding general of the Division 
Of the Northwest, UCV, who set out to locate and mark 
the graves of soldiers who had died in Northern prisons 
during the war. He and his helpers located and tempor- 
arily marked 23,552 such graves. Underwood also raised 
$24,647.52 and erected a monument to honor the 6,000 
Confederate dead in Chicago's Oakwood Cemetery. 13 

The problems of reburial, marking graves, and cemetery 
care were also in evidence in the Washington area. In 
1874 Arlington Cemetery contained 377 scattered and 
improperly marked graves of both soldiers and civilian 
prisoners. North Carolina, South Carolina, and Virginia 
finally removed 241 of their dead, but the remaining 236 
Trom the other states were forgotten until 1898. At that 
time a few veterans in Washington investigated the 
Hituation and formed a new organization, Rouss Camp 
No. 1191, UCV, to secure government action for the honor- 

io Courier, Apr. 26, 1870. 

11 . . . Re-interment of the Carolina Dead from Gettysburg 
(Charleston, 1871), 3, 32-36. 
l *CV, I, 39 (Feb., 1893). 
13 UCV Minutes (6th), I, 86-90. 





able care of these graves. The group petitioned Congress 
for aid. This request resulted in an act of June 6, 1900, 
appropriating $2,500 to rebury the Confederate dead lyinj 
in Arlington and at the Soldier's Home National Cemetery 
The bodies were removed to a plot of some three and ono- 
third acres located in a desirable part of Arlington thai 
came to be known as the "Confederate Section." Each gravo 
was properly marked. Completed in 1901 at a cost of about 
$7,000, the work included landscaping, driveways, and 
reinterment. From then on the upkeep of the graves wan 
absorbed into the Arlington National Cemetery program." 

While the Arlington project was in progress, Ron. 
Camp investigated the location and the condition of tho 
30,152 graves of Confederates buried in the North. Tho 
findings were set forth in a pamphlet, of which over 5,000 
copies were circulated throughout the nation in an efforl, 
to secure Federal aid. In 1902 a Rouss Camp commit) e<3 
prepared a bill providing for an appropriation of $200,000 
for the reacquirement of the burial grounds by the United 
States Government and the erection of headstones, fenceH, 
and other necessary facilities to insure the proper pro 
tection and care of the graves. Senator Joseph B. Forak'i 
of Ohio was requested to introduce the measure. He did 
so, three times, until the proposal was finally enacted into 
law on March 9, 1906. The act represented a final settle- 
ment of the problem of Confederate soldiers and sailor: 
who were buried in the North. 

The continuing problem of cemetery care in the South 
also fell to the various Confederate veterans' organization 
Camp George B. Eastin No. 803 of Louisville spent somi 
$400 from 1888 to 1897 in caring for local Confederato 
graves. 15 Such local associations were the rule for tho 
care of Confederate graves, except in Missouri where i) 
state-wide Confederate Cemetery Association, founded in 
1870, selected grounds adjacent to the Federal and citizem' 
cemeteries near Springfield and reburied there about 500 

^Ibid. (17th), 2-3, 6. 
^CV,V, 209 (May, 1897). 

Confederate soldiers. Total cost of this work, including 
monument, wall, keeper's cottage, reburial expenses, and 
individual headstones, amounted to over $25,000. The 
Missouri Division, UCV, later took over the maintenance 
Of the cemetery and taxed its members ten cents each per 
year for the purpose. 16 Subsequently, the problem of 
cemetery care was solved to a great extent by the creation 
Of Federal parks on the battlefields, and then the expense 
came to be borne by the United States Government. 

A problem that contained elements both memorial and 
charitable was the burial of the individual veteran. There 
was a growing need for providing decent burials for those 
comrades who could not afford them, for a pauper's funeral 
for a Confederate stirred the deepest feelings of his com- 
rades. To avoid such a disgrace veterans took upon them- 
Helves the duty of paying for the funerals of the indigent. 
Not only did they bear the expenses, but also slowly 
evolved a burial ritual designed to honor the role of the 
deceased in the war and to commemorate the achievements 
and sacrifices of all Confederate soldiers. 

Burial expenses accounted for a large share of the funds 
Hpent for charity by the various veteran organizations. 
Camp Eastin of Louisville spent $1,275 on funerals from 
1888 to 1897, which was about 17 per cent of the camp's 
expenditures for the nine years. 17 The Grand Camp Con- 
federate Veterans, Department of Virginia, reported in 
1900 that its forty camps had buried 212 needy comrades 
Bince 1887. 18 From its founding in 1896 to 1899 Camp A. 
Burnett Rhett (Charleston) spent $520 on the burial of 
veterans. 19 

Some of the veterans' groups formed burial societies as 
auxiliaries to the main organizations in order to pay 
funeral expenses. The Fulton County, Georgia association 
uponsored "The Confederate Veteran's Burial Society." 
Each member paid 50$ upon the death of one of his com- 

16 Missouri Proceedings (10th), 78-79. 
^CV, V, 209 (May, 1897). 

18 Virginia Pro ceedings (13th), 23. 

19 CF, VII, 409-410 (Sept., 1899). 





rades. A membership of 100 was maintained so that $50.00 
would be guaranteed for each funeral. 20 

The burial ritual practiced by veterans was usually fl 
simple graveside ceremony. Proceedings varied from camp 
to camp, but the ceremony followed by the Barker Camp 
of Jacksonville, Texas seems to have been typical. The it 
the members of the camp were expected to attend tin- 
funeral in a group. Meeting at an appointed place, tiny 
marched to the home of the deceased. Then, after th| 
religious ceremony was over, they drew near to the gravi 
with the commander at the head and the captain at thj 
foot. The commander read the ritual, and the memberH 
made the responses : 

We are to commit to the grave the body of a comrade whoso 
life — aside from its other ties of friendship and sociabilily 
— was drawn very close to our lives by a bond of love which 
was formed amidst common perils and hardships, ami 
welded in the fires of battle. 

The ritual continued with a description of the service 
which the soldier had rendered under the most trying 
circumstances and in an unequal contest. 

He fought a good fight, and has left a record of which we, 
his surviving comrades, are proud, and which is a heritage 
of glory to his family and their descendents for all time to 

After mentioning the trials and hardships encountered by 
the veteran after the war, the ritual praised his loyalty 
and patriotism to the reunited country. The conclusion 
was in a confident vein: 

Rest soldier, rest! Impartial history will vindicate thy 
motives and write thy deeds illustrious. Comrade and 
friend, we give thy body to the dust and commend thy 
spirit to God. 

20 Rodgers, 17-X8. 

As the chaplain offered a brief prayer, each member tossed 
j i twig in the grave. 21 

In various ways Confederate veterans and their followers 
nought to keep alive the memory of the deeds and the cause 
ill* the Confederate soldiers and sailors. The means most 
frequently employed was the erection of monuments to the 
memory of the individual soldier, the dead of a particular 
organization, or simply to "Our Confederate Dead" or "The 
Confederate Soldier." With oratory inscribed in stone 
and bronze, a message was usually placed on all sides of 
these structures — an open air history lesson forever on 
display — proclaiming the rectitude of the Confederate 
cause, the number of battles fought and won, and quo- 
tations attesting the bravery and sacrifices of all those 
who had served. 

In spite of the good that was done by veterans' groups 
in helping the indigent, much more could have been accom- 
plished had not such a considerable part of their efforts 
and resources been drained into the monument program. 
It took many years of small handouts to equal the sums 
collected and spent on a single monument. In all prob- 
ability, veterans spent as much on monuments from 1865 
l,o 1900 as they did on charitable projects. The monument 
to the 114 dead of the Washington Light Infantry, for 
instance, was completed in 1870 at a cost of $3,000. It was 
ho badly decayed by 1895 that it was torn down and a new 
one erected at a cost of nearly $5,000. Raising funds for 
this forty-five foot granite spire required eleven years 
of effort. 22 

The Army of Tennessee, Louisiana Division, although 
spending much to aid the indigent and to establish a 
soldiers' home, lavished $40,000 on its monument and tomb 
in Metaire Cemetery, New Orleans. 23 Commemorating 

11 Burial Ritual, Jas. J- A. Barker Camp 

, d.), 1-4. 

^CV, VIII, 76 (Feb., 1900). 

^SHSP, XI, 257 (1883). 






Terry's Texas Rangers with a $10,000 equestrain stain. 
required a forty-year campaign. 24 

The UCV headquarters had a permanent committee fcfl 
further the building of monuments. All levels of thai 
organization raised funds for their particular projecl 
Starting in 1890 the whole organization devoted itself Lo 
the collection of funds for a monument to Jefferson 
Davis. 25 In the year ending April 30, 1899 the U<\ 
collected $812.23 for this purpose; the total fund then stood 
at $20,091.58. Because the goal was far from reached and 
the veterans were getting too old for vigorous fund raising 
the UCV turned the money and the project over to the 
United Daughters of the Confederacy. 26 

General Bennett H. Young, one-time commander of thj 
UCV, wrote in 1912: 

As a result of the work of this organization, purely send 
mental, with no bond except patriotism and loyalty to th« 
heroes of the South, they have caused more monuments I" 
be erected to the soldiers of the Confederate army than 
have ever been erected in any age of the world to anj 
cause, civil, political, or religious. 27 

Young's statement could be taken as a compliment, as |j 
was doubtless intended, or as a reproach, depending upon 
the point of view. A few veterans argued that, as long an 
there were hungry, homeless, and penniless among them, 
the monuments were a mocking reproach to veterans everj 
where. But the majority probably would not have had il 
otherwise. Obviously, concerned over their ultimate place 
in history, they seemingly exhibited an insatiable fondneHH 
for memorials that might endure for ages. Certainly, their 
program of erecting monuments was a success from ji 
quantitative standpoint. Whether the ultimate purpoHO 
will succeed remains in doubt, but there is no doubt that 
Confederate monuments enjoy strategic locations through- 

24 CV, V, 195 (May, 1897). 

25 UCV Minutes (1st), 4-5. 

26 Ibid. (9th), 134-135. 

27 CV, XX, 260 (June, 1912). 

i»ut the South and will continue to be seen and their 
Inscriptions read, even if they may often fail to be com- 

The South gained a reputation for strict economy in the 
post-Reconstruction years. Reaction to Radical policies, 
in id especially to that of liberal expenditures, tended to 
diminish the funds spent on state services to the people. 
1 1* the state governments possessed any social consciousness 
in regard to the needs of their unfortunate citizens, they 
generally justified their neglect as a sacrifice to the more 
important policy of economic retrenchment. 

Yet, demands for state aid to indigent and disabled Con- 
federate veterans continued to come from many quarters. 
The veterans were not without organized support, nor 
were they lacking in able leadership. Parsimonious as the 
state governments might have been, they could not long 
afford to ignore the veterans' pleas. Once started, the 
Htates were forced to expand again and again their pro- 
grams of benefits to the veterans and their widows. 

Although much of the relief given Confederate veterans 
immediately after the war came from private and local 
sources, some of the states attempted to help maimed 
veterans by supplying them with artificial limbs. This was 
a project requiring a considerable outlay of funds. It was 
generally considered beyond the means of local charity. 

Georgia, Florida, and North Carolina were among the 
states providing such aid. About $32,000 was spent in 
Georgia for artificial limbs from 1866 to 1869. Maimed 
veterans were allowed to draw a sum equal to the value of 
the limb, if they could not be properly fitted. 28 Florida 
appropriated $5,000 for artificial limbs in 1866 to be used 
at the direction of the governor. 29 North Carolina spent 
over $86,000 for artificial limbs or cash payments in lieu 
thereof from 1866 to 1917. 30 The inauguration of the 

™SHSP, XX, 146 (1892). 

29 Florida Laws (1866), Chap. 1545, No. 12. 

30 William H. Glasson, "The South's Pension and Relief Provisions 
for the Soldiers of the Confederacy," North Carolina Historical 
Commission Bulletin, No. 23, 68 (Raleigh, 1918). 





Congressional Reconstruction plan in Georgia, as in tho 
other states, brought such expenditures to a halt. Veterani 
could hope for few benefits from the state governments 
until home rule was restored. 

After Reconstruction the Southern states showed a re- 
newed interest in their veterans, and provisions for arti- 
ficial limbs were resumed. Louisiana appropriated $12,00(1 
for that purpose in 1880; the prices specified in the con- 
tracts were $80 for an artificial leg and $25 for repair 
thereto. Arms were priced at $65, with $15 allowed foi 
repair. 31 

Pensions for the disabled grew out of these earlier 
payments for loss of arms or legs. North Carolina madfl 
the first permanent provision for pensions to the disabled 
by an act March 12, 1879. Those who had lost sight oi 
limbs were entitled to receive $60 a year for life. By 1907 
this rate had increased to $120. S2 A Georgia act oi 
December 24, 1888 provided for annual payments based 
upon disability which varied from a low of $5.00 a year 
for the loss of one finger or one toe up to $150 a year to 
those who had lost their sight or a disabling combination 
of arms or legs. A Florida law of 1889 was similar to thd 
Georgia plan, except that payments were made quarterly 
and the widow of a veteran who received a pension at tho 
time of his death was to be paid the same pension during 
widowhood. 33 

Texas was among the last of the states to begin regular 
pension payments. First, Texas tried a land pension 
system: by an act of April 9, 1881 veterans who had been 
permanently disabled and owned less than $1,000 of prop- 
erty were entitled to bounty warrants for 1,200 acres oi 
land from the public domain. Indigent widows of such 
veterans were entitled to like warrants. The act wai 
repealed in 1883 because the public domain was virtually 

3 *SHSP, XX, 152-154 (1892). 

32 Glasson, 68-69. 

33 SHSP, XX, 144-149 (1892). 

exhausted. A total of 1,979,852 acres was given to veterans 
and widows under this measure. 84 

By 1900 the pension program was well under way. In 
Uiat year eight states spent over $100,000 each on pensions. 
Georgia led with an expenditure of more than $600,000. 35 
Payment to pensioners were extremely low, and appro- 
priations small, in comparison with those that were to 
prevail later. 

Both the number of pensioners and the amount spent 
increased rapidly. By 1914 all of the states were paying 
far above the 1900 level. Georgia still led with an ex- 
penditure of $1,125,000 on pensions in 1914. South Caro- 
lina spent the least in that year — a total of $258,528. The 
top annual pension paid in 1914 was $120 in Florida and 
Kentucky; Virginia's rate of $30 per year was the lowest. 
In 1914 the average annual payment was $57.77 in the 
twelve states participating. 36 

The cost of Confederate pensions reached a peak in the 
years 1928-1931, the sum of $19,071,065 being spent in 
1929 in the eleven former Confederate States. In 1928 the 
maximum annual rate varied from $200 in Mississippi to 
$792 in South Carolina. 37 But where there had been 
121,653 pensioners in 1910, there remained only 22,529 
veterans and 33,173 widows receiving pensions in 1928. 

The amount spent for pensions began to decline in the 
1930's and fell off even more rapidly in the 1940's. Where 
the eleven states mentioned above had spent over $19,000,- 
000 in 1928, they spent only $8,642,992 in 1936. 38 Coupled 
with this decline were increases in payments to each vet- 
eran and widow — there were fewer to share the funds. 

3 * Bascom Giles, History and Disposition of Texas Public Domain 
(Austin, 1945), 17; Texas Laws (1881), 122; ibid. (1883), 13. 

35 Marie B. Owen (comp.), Alabama Official and Statistical 
Register, 1919 (Montgomery, 1920), 438; Wood, 120-121. 

ae perry M. DeLeon, "What the South is Doing for Her Veterans," 
CV, XXIII, 255 (June, 1915). 

37 Edmond R. Wiles, "Confederate Veterans and Widows," ibid., 
XXXVI, 408-409 (Nov., 1928). 

38 B. U. Ratchford and K. C. Heise, "Confederate Pensions," 
Southern Economic Journal, V, 207-214 (Oct., 1938). 





Money for pensions usually came from the state's general 
revenues, from special property taxes or from combination. 
of the two. Arkansas started selling bonds in 1927 so thai 
the state could pay larger pensions while the veterans went 
alive and retire the bonds over a long period of time from 
the proceeds of a 2-mill property tax. Wrecked by tho 
depression, this plan resulted in Arkansas' paying tint 
lowest pensions of all the states in the 1930's. In 19M 
Arkansas spent 6 per cent of the fund for pensions, 7 por 
cent for the soldiers' home, and 87 per cent for delil 

Soldiers' homes were founded to meet a need not capable 
of being fulfilled by sporadic charity of veterans' organ!, 
zations or by pensions from the state. A haven was needed 
for the homeless and especially for those who were sick oi 

Three homes were founded in 1884 and 1885 in Louisiana, 
Texas, and Virginia. Louisiana first had a home from 
1866 to 1868 at Mandeville. Opened by the state in re- 
sponse to veterans' demands, ninety-six veterans were 
admitted during the first year of operation and were 
cared for at an expenditure of $16,712.92. 39 The homi 
seemed assured of success until the new Reconstruction 
government refused to renew the appropriation for it in 
1868. As a result of the work of the Benevolent Asso 
ciations of the Army of Tennessee and the Army of 
Northern Virginia, the Louisiana home reopened Feb rum 'J 
5, 1884, in New Orleans. It was still a state institution, 
but the funds for the land and the buildings were raised 
by the veterans and the management was entrusted to thi 
Board of Directors composed of the top officers of the two 
veteran organizations. 40 Also in 1884 a Confederate hoim 
was opened at Austin, Texas by the John B. Hood Camp. 
This organization operated the home until 1891, when il 

was turned over to the State of Texas. 41 The other pioneer 
state in setting up a home was Virginia. Like those in 
Louisiana and Texas of 1884, it was originated by veterans. 
These homes set examples which the other Southern states 
noon followed. Lee Camp Soldier's Home in Virginia was 
larger than those in Louisiana and Texas, received the 
widest attention, and was the most copied by other groups 
desiring to found a home. It exemplified the general 
pattern followed by groups in the other states. R. E. Lee 
Camp No. 1 of Richmond was founded in April, 1883 to 
help needy veterans. In May of that year the camp, 
assisted by the ladies, held a bazaar which ran for eighteen 
nights and netted $24,000. Using $14,000 of this money 
Lee Camp bought thirty-six acres of land within the city 
upon which was located an old dwelling house. The build- 
ing was repaired and the home opened January 1, 1885. 
Donations solicited by Lee Camp were used to enlarge and 
improve the original structure as well as to erect cottages 
about the grounds to accomodate more veterans. A hospital, 
chapel, and a central mess hall were also completed by 
1 892. The home was administered by a Board of Visitors 
elected by Lee Camp members. A superintendent, elected 
by the board, was in direct charge of the home. After the 
first two years, when the home was financed entirely by 
the camp, the State of Virginia gave $60,000 to help 
support the institution from 1887 to 1892. In March, 
1892 the state agreed to appropriate $150 a year for each 
inmate for a period of twenty-two years; the annual 
appropriation was limited to $30,000. Upon the expiration 
of this period the property was to be deeded to the state. 
Veterans continued to determine the policies of the home, 
however, since they dominated the Board of Visitors for 
many years. 42 

The transition from private to state operation was per- 

39 J. A. Chalaron, "'Camp Nicholls,' The Soldier's Home of Lou- 
isiana," in Official Souvenir and Hand Book, 1903 (New Orlearm, 

*°SHSP, XI, 477-478 (1883); ibid., XX, 156-157 (1892). 

41 First Annual Report of the Board of Managers of the Texas 
Confederate Home, 1891 (Austin, 1892), 3; Henry E. Shelley, "The 
Confederate Home for Texas," CV, IV, 156-157 (May, 1896). 

* 2 SHSP, XX, 315-324, 422-423 (1892). 





haps best seen in the financial contributions made to thl 
Virginia home. From 1884 to 1896 the state contributed 
$173,805.55, while Lee Camp and friends supplied $149,- 
563.94. By 1900 the state had appropriated $307,961.67 ai 
against $158,301.29 furnished by Lee Camp. From private 
to a private-state partnership, to complete state control wai 
the course followed by the Lee Camp Home; and essentially 
the same process was followed in all other states. 43 

Six other soldiers' homes were established in the yean 
from 1888 to 1893 in North Carolina, Arkansas, Tennessee 
Maryland, Florida, and Missouri. The last was in Okla- 
homa in 1911. 44 It brought the total number of home, 
for veterans to fifteen. 45 

Soldiers' homes varied considerably in type and facilities, 
especially in their early history. Some, as in New OrleaiiM 
and Richmond, were built on urban property, while tin- 
Tennessee, Missouri, and Arkansas homes were on farm.i 
The Tennessee home was situated on 475 acres of "The Her 
mitage" property and enjoyed considerable revenue from 
farm operations, besides raising food products for the table, 

The Tennessee veterans decided that the Lee Camp 
system of using cottages to house the veterans in small 
groups was inefficient. Instead, they erected one large 
central building. 46 As the homes took in more inmates, they 
increased facilities and services. Standard features camn 
to include a library, chapel, hospital, and a cemetery. 
Hospitals became an increasingly prominent adjunct a| 
the years passed. 

In many states veterans and widows, or sometimes 
veterans and their wives, lived at the same homes, an 
arrangement which added to the social pleasure of the 

43 CV, IV, 28 (Jan., 1896); ibid., VIII, 117 (March, 1900). 
4i Ibid., XXI, 311 (June, 1913). 

45 DeLeon, 255. 

46 Tennessee Minutes (3rd), 18; ibid. (5th), 31-32. 

47 CV, XXXI, 128 (Apr., 1923); ibid., XXXII, 217, 244 (Jun«, 
1924) ; Zella H. Gaither, Arkansas Confederate Home . . . (Liill<- 
Rock, n.d.), 5; B. W. Green, "The Arkansas Confederate Home," CV, 
XXXI, 48 (Feb., 1923). 


institutions. In fact, marriages solemnized on the premises 
between veterans and widows were quite common. 

In most instances homes never degenerated into the cold 
and lifeless form so common to many state institutions. 
There was about them a distinct air and attitude. Far 
from forgotten, the inmates were the constant object of 
the good works of veterans' and womens' organizations, 
especially the UDC. The management had to be diligent 
indeed to escape criticism from what amounted to daily 
inspection — official or otherwise. A mere rumor of mis- 
treatment of veterans would bring speedy demands for a 
legislative investigation. 

Soldiers' homes cost an insignificant amount in compari- 
son with pension expense. In 1914, for example, when 
fifteen states maintained Confederate homes, the cost was 
only $518,800 for the 2,376 inmates. In the same year 
approximately $7,473,523 was spent on pensions. In 1936 
homes for veterans and widows cost $330,933 while 
pensions amounted to $19,071,065. 

The number of occupants of the homes started to fall 
off between 1915 and 1920, but the cost for each inmate 
kept rising with the cost of living and the increased 
amount of medical care for the aging veterans. In North 
Carolina the most inmates (209) were at the home in 1917, 
but the cost of running the institution was the greatest in 
1927, when approximately $61,000 was spent. The Texas 
Confederate Home also had peak occupancy fom 1915 to 
1918, averaging around 365 to 370 inmates, and peak 
outlay in 1927. 48 

Although relatively inexpensive, soldiers' and widows' 
homes filled a need that only a foster home could supply. 
In providing shelter, comfort, and care to the aged and the 
infirm, the states did a far better job than they did in car- 
ing for those on the outside through the pension program. 

It has been estimated that the eleven Confederate States 

48 Biennial Report of the Texas Confederate Home . . . (Austin, 
1918), 5; Annual Report of the Comptroller of Texas, 1927 (Austin, 
1928), 13. 



spent about $400,000,000 from 1865 to 1962 on pension.-! 
and homes for veterans and widows. If this approximate; 
the actual expense, then the added cost of pensions and 
homes in Maryland, Oklahoma, Missouri, and Kentucky, 
plus the continued cost from 1938 to 1959, must place tho 
total expenditure for all state aid to veterans and widown 
since 1865 in the neighborhood of $500,000,000. Thus, tho 
state governments paid long and mightily for their 
Confederate heritage. Besides that, the Southern peoplo 
have been privileged to pay their share of the more ex- 
pensive Federal care of Union veterans. And now, ninety- 
seven years after the end of the war, the cost continues. 



r il °9 

The Confederate veteran was born of a rev- 
olution that failed. Although he hastily laid aside the 
trappings of war, he remained a symbol, the human re- 
flection of the Confederacy and what might have been. 
He was branded with the title "Confederate" or "Rebel" 
and his every move was watched by friend and former foe 
alike. In the eyes of his compatriots he had not been dis- 
credited by defeat, and he was persecuted enough during 
Reconstruction to add a touch of martyrdom to his already 
legendary reputation. 

Taking advantage of his popularity and the generally 
lenient policy of the Federal Government, the veteran be- 
gan to organize his ranks and openly to state his views. 
He organized for many purposes, but his central desire 
was always to vindicate his cause. In his every word and 
deed he attempted to add proof that he had not been a 
traitor and that the principles for which he had fought 
had been just and right. 

The veteran was thus a dynamic force among a defeated 
and despairing people who looked to him for leadership 
and guidance and thrust upon his shoulders responsibility 
for the South's destiny. Riding the crest of a wave of 
sentiment which arose out of bitter war and Reconstruc- 
tion, he held dominion over the life of the South far 
beyond the span normally allotted to any group or genera- 
tion. No other war in American history has left its soldiers 
such a lengthy inheritance of honor and leadership. 

As the trusted leader and spokesman for his fellow 
citizens, how well did the Confederate veteran measure 
up to his responsibility? That he was not recreant to his 





trust has been suggested. He made many contributions to 
Southern and to national life. Among them were the 
following : 

1. He willingly went to work in an almost hopeless 
economic situation, setting an example for other South- 
erners. He showed an adaptability to the changed order 
and was willing to accept new ideas and business methods, 
even from his former enemy. His work in reviving tho 
old and in introducing new industries helped to create tho 
"New South" which laid the foundations for even greater 
industrialization after his time. 

2. The veteran led the Southern people gradually toward 
a new loyalty and patriotism to the United States. Chas- 
tised by battle, he was the most thoroughly "reconstructed" 
of all Southerners, and he worked honestly for reconcilia- 
tion and a united country. 

3. An inheritor of a public confidence which brought him 
a long reign in political office, the veteran exercised this 
responsibility with restraint. His was generally a conser- 
vative influence. He followed his own views and those of 
the Southern people in championing constitutional govern- 
ment, honestly and economically administered. State rights, 
local self-government, and white rule were his watchwords, 
The unique position of political leadership he enjoyed was 
exploited through the Democratic-Conservative coalition 
He identified that party with the glory of the war and 
proclaimed it the steadfast opponent of Radical rule, 
thereby playing an important role in keeping the South 
primarily a one-party section. 

4. The veteran made important contributions to the pres- 
ervation of the materials of history, both military and civil. 
He was certain that, if only the facts were gathered and 
preserved, his actions would find a just and honorable 
position in the history of a re-united nation. 

5. The veteran used his organizations to aid unfortunato 
comrades and, subsequently, he secured state programs of 
benefits for veterans and widows. 

6. In an abstract way, the Confederate veteran shaped 

the mind of the South. By means of memorial activities 
he left behind constant reminders of his past. He handed 
down an ideal of gallantry and self-sacrifice by which any 
future sacrifices paled in comparison. 

The Confederate veteran, though he failed to win victory 
in war, may be said to have won "a victory of the spirit" 
in the long peace to follow. Indeed, he grappled against 
many obstacles, but finally lived to see his name honored 
and respected throughout the land. 



Selected (ISibli 


Books and Articles 

Andrews, Sidney. The South Since the War. . . . Boston, 

Association of Confederate Soldiers, Tennessee Division. 
Minutes of the Annual Meeting, 1889-1896. Nashville, 

Association of the Army of Tennessee, Louisiana Division. 
Roll of the Army of Tennessee, Louisiana Division, Camp 
No. 2, UCV New Orleans, n.d. 

Avary, M. Lockett. Dixie After the War. . . . New York, 

Bevens, W. E. Reminiscences of a Private, Company "G", 
First Arkansas Regiment, Infantry. N.p., n.d. 

Blake, Nelson M. William Mahone of Virginia, Soldier 
and Political Insurgent. Richmond, 1935. 

Brooks, Robert P. The Agrarian Revolution in Georgia, 
1865-1912. Madison, 1914. 

Buck, Paul H. The Road to Reunion, 1865-1900. Boston, 

Buck, Solon J. The Agrarian Crusade. . . . New Haven, 

Burger, Nash K. and John K. Bettersworth. South oj 
Appomattox. New York, 1959. 

Burial Ritual, Jas. J. A. Barker Camp No. 1555, U.C.V. 
Jacksonville, Texas, n.d. 

Campbell, Tom W. Four Score Forgotten Men. . . . Littlo 
Rock, 1950. 

Cash, Wilbur J. The Mind of the South. New York, 1941. 

Chalaron, J. A. " 'Camp Nicholls,' The Soldiers' Home of 
Louisiana," in Official Souvenir and Hand Book, U. C. V., 
1903. New Orleans, 1903. 

Confederate Annals, I (June, 1883). 

Confederate Memorial Day, Charleston, S. C, Re-interment 
of the Carolina Dead from Gettysburg. Charleston, 1871. 

Confederate Veteran, 1893-1932. 40 vols. 

Confederate Veteran Association of Kentucky. Constitu- 
tion, By-Laws and List of Membership. Lexington, 1895. 

"The Confederate Veteran's Reunion," Harper's Weekly, 
XLI, 653-654 (July 3, 1897). 

Crabites, Pierre. Americans in the Egyptian Army. Lon- 
don, 1938. 

DeLeon, Perry M. "What the South Is Doing for Her Vet- 
erans," Confederate Veteran, XXIII, 225 (June, 1915). 

Dunn, Ballard S. Brazil, the Home for Southerners. New 
York, 1866. 

Edmonds, Richard H. Facts About the South. Baltimore, 
1894, 1902. 

Evans, Clement A., ed. Confederate Military History. 
Atlanta, 1899. 12 vols. 

First Annual Report of the Board of Managers of the Texas 
Confederate Home, 1891. Austin, 1892. 

Fleming, Walter L. Civil War and Reconstruction in 
Alabama. Cleveland, 1911. 

, ed. Documentary History of Reconstruction. . . . 

Cleveland, 1907. 2 vols. 

Gaither, Zella H. Arkansas Confederate Home, Little Rock. 
Little Rock, n.d. 

Garner, James W. Reconstruction in Mississippi. New 
York, 1901. 





Glasson, William H. "The South's Pension and Reliri 
Provisions for the Soldiers of the Confederacy," in North 
Carolina Historical Commission Bulletin, No. 23. Raleigh, 

Green, B. W. "The Arkansas Confederate Home," Con 
federate Veteran, XXXI, 48 (Feb., 1923). 

Grand Camp Confederate Veterans of Mississippi. Pro 
ceedings of the Second Annual Meeting. Natchez, 1892, 

Grand Camp Confederate Veterans, Department of Vir- 
ginia. Proceedings of the Thirteenth Annual Meetinq. 
Richmond, 1900. 

Hanna, Alfred J. and Kathryn A. Confederate Exiles in 
Venezuela, Confederate Centennial Studies, No. 15. Tuh- 
caloosa, 1960. 

Harmon, George D. "Confederate Migrations to Mexico," 
Hispanic American Historical Review, XVII, 458-487 
(Nov., 1937). 

Hesseltine, William B. Confederate Leaders in the New 
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Ackerman, Amos T., 82 
Alexander, E. P., 54 
American Tobacco Co., 70 
Andrews, Alexander A., 54 
Arkansas Infantry, First Regi- 
ment, 15, 16 
Arlington National Cemetery, 

Confederate Section, 101-102 
Army of Northern Virginia, 

Association of, 20-22 
Atlantic, Mississippi & Ohio 
Railroad Co., 53 


Baines, Joseph W., 84 
Baker, Laurence S., 54 
Barker, Camp James A., UCV, 

Battle Abbey, 55 
Beauregard, P. G. T., 20, 22, 52, 

Beauregard Light Infantry 

Charitable Association, 14 
Belo, Alfred H., 57 
Bigham, Benjamin H., 75 
Bragg, Braxton, 52 
Brazil, Confederate exiles in, 62- 

Breckinridge, John C, 54 
Brown, John C, 58 
Brown, Joseph, 79 
Buchanan, Franklin, 60 
Buchanan, Hugh, 75 
Buckner, Simon B., 56 
Butler Guards, 14-15, 92 
Butler, M. C, 54, 79 

Clark, William T., 57 
Coke, Richard, 75 
Colquitt, Hugh H., 71 
Colston, R. E., 65 
Confederate Cemetery Associa- 
tion, Springfield, Mo., 13, 102 
Cook, Philip, 79 
Cox, Attila, 39 
Culberson, C. A., 80 
Cumberland University, 59 
Curry, J. L. M., 60 


Daniel, John W., 40 

Davis, Jefferson, 18, 38, 42, 95, 

Davis, Joe, 56 
Dawson, Francis W., 69 
Deas, Zachariah C, 56 
DeBardeleben, Henry F., 67, 68 
DeSaussure, Charles A., 54 
Dibrell, G. G., 17 
Dorn, A. J., 76 
Duke, Basil, 58 
Duke, Washington, 70 
Dunn, Ballard S., 63 


Early, Jubal A., 20, 23 

Eastin, Camp George B., UCV, 

102, 103 
Egypt, Confederate veterans in, 

Elliot, Stephen, 56 
Evans, Clement A., 44, 45, 58-59, 

Ewell, Richard S., 52, 62 

Cabell, W. L., 17, 32-33, 45, 54 

Capers, Ellison, 58 

Charleston Light Dragoons 
Monumental Association, 14 

Charleston Survivor's Associa- 
tion, 18, 101 

Cheatham, Frank, Bivouac No. 1, 
20, 100 


Foraker, Joseph B., 102 

Forrest, Nathan B., 54 

Fox, Amos, 94 

Frazier, James B., 39 

Fulton County (Ga.), Confederate 

Veteran's Association of, 19, 

20, 93, 94, 103-104 







Gaillard, P. C, 18 

Gano, Richard M., 59 

Gardner, Prank, 56 

Gault, Laura Talbot, 45 

Georgia, Confederate Survivor's 
Association of, 20 

Georgia Infantry, Third Regi- 
ment, 16; Twenty-first Regi- 
ment, 15 

Georgia Veteran Association, 28 

Glover, Thomas C, 15 

Gordon, Camp John W., 36 

Gordon, John B., 20, 21, 28, 32, 
33, 34, 43, 45 

Grady, Henry W., 49 

Grand Army of the Republic, 26 

Grand Camp Confederate Vet- 
erans, 22, 33, 99, 100, 103 

Gunter, Charles G., 63 


Hammett, Henry W., 69 
Hampton, Wade, 18, 19, 21, 76, 95 
Hardee, William J., 52 
Harris, Isham G., 18, 62 
Haskell, John C, 80 
Hastings, Lansford W., 63, 64 
Herbert, Hilary A., 82 
Higgins, E., 56 
Hill, Daniel H., 59-60 
Hoke, Robert F., 54 
Holmes, Theophilus H., 52 
Hood, Camp John B., UCV, 96, 

Hood, John B., 56 
Hotchkiss, Jed, 68 
Howard College, 60 

Inman, John H., 56, 68, 70 
Ireland, John, 84, 86 

Jackson Guards, 15 
Jackson, Thomas J., 38, 57, 93 
Jackson, W. H., 87-88 
Jarvis, Thomas J., 84 
Jennifer, A. H., 65 
Johnson, Bradley T., 19-20, 21 
Johnston, Joseph E., 59, 96 
Jones, George W., 76 
Jones, Joseph, 41-42 
Jones, J. William, 38 


Kenan, Thomas S., 84 
Kennon, Beverly, 65 
Key, David M., 82 
King, Rufus, 95 
King, W. H., 56 

Lamar, L. Q. C, 82, 83 
Lanham, S. W. T., 80 
Lee County, Miss., 13 
Lee, Capt. Robert E., 51-52 
Lee, Gen. Robert E., 20, 38, 59 
Lee, Camp R. E. No. 1, Grand 

Camp Confederate Veterans, 

99, 111-112 
Lee Monumental Association, 18 
Lee, Stephen D., 21, 32-33, 59 
Lee, W. H. F., 51-52 
Lincoln, Abraham, 42 
Lockett, Samuel H., 65 
Loring, William W., 56, 65 
Louisiana Division, Army of 

Northern Virginia, 22, 27, 110 
Louisiana Division, Army of 

Tennessee, 22, 27, 105, 110 
Love, Samuel L., 84 
Lowry, Robert, 84 
Lubbock, Francis R., 84 
Lurton, Horace H., 83 


McDonaldson, Gerald, 57 
McGowan, Samuel, 98 
McKinley, William, 44 
McLaurin, Anselm J., 84 
McMullen, Frank, 63 
Magruder, John B., 61, 62 
Mahone, William, 53 
Marmaduke, John S., 20 
Maryland Agricultural College, 

Maryland, Society of the Army 

and Navy of the Confederal 

States of, 19, 99, 101 
Mason, Alexander M., 65 
Maury, Matthew F., 61 
Maximilian, 61, 62 
Memorial Day, 94, 95-97 
Memphis & Charleston Railroad, 

Memphis & Little Rock Railway, 

Memphis, Confederate Relief and 

Historical Association of, 18 
Memphis, Okolona & Selma Rail- 
road, 54 

Meriwether, Robert, 63 

Mexico, Confederate exiles in, 60- 

Minot, John C, 17 

Mississippi Agricultural and 
Mechanical College, 59 

Missouri, Ex-Confederate Asso- 
ciation of, 20 

Missouri Division, UCV, 103 

Moody, Camp W. L., UCV, 92 


New South, 34, 49, 66-71, 73 

New York Cotton Exchange, 56 

Nicholls, F. T., 57 

Norfolk & Western Railroad, 68 

Norris, Robert, 63 

Norris, William H., 63 

Northeast Mississippi Confed- 
erate Veteran Association, 13 

North Carolina Infantry, Third 
Regiment, 16 


Oglethorpe Light Infantry, 
Association, 15 

Palmetto Guard Society, 14 

Park, Robert E., 85 

Parsley, William M., 16 

Peabody Fund, 60 

Peabody Normal College, 43, 88- 

Pensions, Confederate, 86, 87, 88, 

107-110, 113-114 
Piedmont Mills, 69 
Pocahontas Coal Fields, 68 
Pratt, Daniel, 67 
Pressley, James F., 74 
Price, Sterling, 62, 76 


Quintard, Charles T., 60 


Raleigh & Gaston Railroad, 54 

Reynolds, D. H., 16-17 

Rhett, Alfred, 17 

Rhett, Camp A. Burnett, UCV, 

100, 103 
Rhett, T. J., 65 

Richardson, John P., 79 
Richmond & Danville Railroad, 

Richmond College, 60 
Richmond Howitzers, 15 
Richmond, Survivor's Association 

of, 101 
Robertson, J. H., 95 
Ross, Lawrence S., 59 
Rouss Camp, UCV, 101-102 
Rouss, Charles B., 55 


Saunders, William L., 84 

Scarborough, John C, 84 

Schurz, Carl, 50 

Shelby, J. 0., 18, 33, 62 

Sheridan, Phillip, 18 

Shook, Alfred M., 54, 67-68 

Sibley, Henry H., 65 

Smith, E. Kirby, 43, 59, 62, 96, 

Smith, J. F., 44 

Smyth, Ellison A., 55 

Soldier's homes, 86, 87, 88, 110- 

Sons of Confederate Veterans, 35 

South Carolina Rangers' Chari- 
table Association, 14 

South Carolina Regulars, First 
Brigade, 17 

South _ Carolina, Survivor's Asso- 
ciation of, 19 

Southern Colonization Society, 63 

Southern Historical Association, 

Springfield (Mo.) Confederate 
Cemetery, 13 

Stedman, Charles M., 82 

Steward, Charles, 80 

Stewart, A. P., 56, 59 

Stone, John M., 84 

Swain, S. M., 63 

Swain, W. J., 84 

Taylor, Robert L., 39 
Tebault, C. H., 42 
Templeton, John D., 84 
Tennessee Coal, Iron & Railroad 

Co., 54, 67 
Tennessee Division, Association 

of Confederate Soldiers, 20, 33 
Terry's Texas Rangers, 17, 95, 




Texas Agricultural and Mechani- 
cal College, 59 
Texas & Pacific Railway Co., 54 
Thompson, Jeff, 55 
Tillman, Ben, 79, 80 


Underwood, John C, 101 
United Confederate Veterans, 
purposes, 26-29 ; organization, 
29-30; characteristics, 31-33; 
membership, 33-35; annual 
conventions, 35-48; political 
action, 86-89 ; charitable work, 
100; monuments, 106-107 
United Daughters of the Con- 
federacy, 35, 96, 113 
United States Cabinet, Confed- 
erate veterans in, 82 
United States Congress, Confed- 
erate veterans in, 81-82 
United States Naval Academy, 60 
United States Supreme Court, 
Confederate veteran members 
of, 83 
University of Arkansas, 59-60 
University of Mississippi, 59 
University of Nashville, 59 
University of the South, 59, 60 

Veteran Confederate States 

Cavalry Association, 27 
Virginia Department, Grand 

Camp Confederate Veterans, 

99, 103 
Virginia Division, Army of 

Northern Virginia, 21 
Virginia Infantry, Old First 

Regiment Association, 16 


Walhalla, S. C, Veterans Asso- 
ciation of, 18 

Walton, W. M., 75 

Ward, Camp George T., UCV, 92 

Washington College, 59 

Washington Light Infantry 
Charitable Association, 14, 93, 
95, 99, 105 

Wheeler, Joseph, 56 

White, Edward D., 46, 83 

Wilson, William L., 82 

Wilson, Woodrow, 46 

Wofford, William T., 75 

Wright, Luke E., 82 

Wright, William A., 85 

Young, Bennett H., 26, 39-40, 100